


Breaking Through - The Story Continues

by breakingthrough



Series: Breaking Through [3]
Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Actors, Adopted Children, Adoption, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beards (Facial Hair), Blow Jobs, Bullying, Celebrities, Coaches, Divorce, Established Relationship, Facial Shaving, Facials, Football | Soccer, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hollywood, M/M, Male Slash, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Oral Sex, Post-Divorce, RPS - Freeform, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 102,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17330756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakingthrough/pseuds/breakingthrough
Summary: I can't quit this story. Expect a lot more parenting and cute moments from the Hammer family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please send any feedback to breakingthroughstory@gmail.com.

Chris ran his hand over Armie's chest, nuzzling his neck as he tried to get as much of their bodies to touch as possible. He was half awake and could hear the faint sound of Armie's breathing. It had been a few weeks since the operation and things were finally getting back to normal. His hearing was back, the holidays were behind them, and any second now, he knew that Euan would come into the room and jump on the bed.

"Today's the big day," Armie said softly. "Do you remember what it was like the first time you came out and had an entire auditorium cheering for you?"

Chris hadn't even opened his eyes yet. "I was too nervous to remember the first time," Chris said. "But I remember the feeling after doing it dozens of times. It's...something."

"You don't need to be humble with me."

Armie felt Chris practically purr against his neck before straddling his waist. He pushed his hair back off his forehead and Armie's hands took their usual place at Chris' waist. "The applause is great. The actual talking is the part that makes me nervous."

"Should I go for my run so your son can get his one-on-one time in?"

"You and me had our one-on-one time last night," Armie said, grinning.

"Don't get cocky," Chris said. "It's not the first time you've made me cum more than once."

Chris leaned down and kissed him, taking just a few more seconds for himself. "Six miles. I'll be quick," Chris said.

"Take your time," Armie said, tracing his fingertips down Chris' spine. "It's early."

"Daddy!" Euan said from the door, which was always cracked open an inch.

"Kiddo, can you give us one sec?" Chris said, climbing off of his husband. He scanned around the room for his underwear and picked it up from the foot of the bed. He tossed Armie's to him before he walked into the bathroom.

When Euan heard the water running, he tiptoed inside before taking more confident strides to the bed. "Good morning."

"Did you have a good sleep?" Armie asked, patting the bed next to him. Euan sat in his usual spot, opened the bedside table, and pulled out the book they'd been reading together. "Paddington? Already? You just woke up."

"Paddington."

"I'll be right back," Chris said as he walked out from the bathroom, dressed in his all-black running clothes. He kissed the top of Euan's head, "Sebastian's already outside."

"Keeping you accountable," Armie said. "Let's brush our teeth first. Then, Paddington. Have a good run."

"Bye, dad."

Chris shut the front door behind him and instantly regretted not staying in bed. The air was cold. The sky was grey. He had a dull ache in his ass. It was how he felt most mornings before the blood started pumping. "Did you get a haircut?" Sebastian asked.

"Yeah," Chris said as he half-heartedly stretched his legs. "Have to look good for tonight. Okay. Are we running for time or just getting it done today?"

"I'm not in the mood to really push myself."

"Thank God," Chris said. "Pier to pier is my favorite, anyway."

Euan watched as Armie picked up the clothes scattered around the bed, pulling on a T-shirt and tossing the rest into the hamper next to the dresser. "Do you want to come to your dad's talk tonight or do you want to stay home? Uncle Nicky can come over and you guys can watch movies."

"I don't know," Euan said. "Can we read now?"

"Did you straighten up your room last night?" Armie asked as he got back into bed.

"No," Euan said. "I was playing with dinos."

"Can you do that today?" Armie said as he opened up the book. While he and Chris took turns with nighttime reading duty, weekend mornings were reserved exclusively for Armie and Euan. It went all the way back to when Armie would be filming and miss out on what felt like entire weeks of his life. It was something Chris loved, too, knowing that the two of them had something just for themselves.

"Is dad getting another award today?"

"No, he's just talking," Armie said. "It's to raise money for the museum. He does it every year."

"Why doesn't the museum have dinosaur bones?"

"It's not that kind of museum."

Euan settled in the crook of Armie's body, his head resting on Armie's shoulder as he listened intently to the story of a bear in a toggle coat. They only made it a few pages at a time with Euan pointing at all the illustrations, asking questions about London, and deciding that they'd have to get a little bit of practice in before his dad got back from his run. Half a chapter down and Euan was getting fidgety.

"Okay, get your cleats on," Armie said. "We'll keep reading tonight."

Armie got to the kitchen before he heard the front door open and Euan dragging out his pop-up practice goal. He started the coffeemaker and went over to the hall closet, pulling out his sneakers and slipping them on, as well as a hoodie. He made his way outside, mug in hand, to see Euan already stretching his legs out.

"What are we working on?" Armie asked.

"Cross the ball for me and I'll shoot it in," Euan said, bouncing on his heels.

"Alright," Armie said. "Let's do this."

***

"Do you believe in soul mates?" Sebastian asked.

Chris took a sip of his coffee. He wished they were sitting down so he could really think about it, but the coffee shop was so crowded that they couldn't get their usual spot. "Did you find one?" Chris asked, falling back on his wit instead of actually answering the question. "I thought I did. But things change."

"Jake or Armie?"

"I thought Jake was the one for me until he wasn't," Chris said, being extremely diplomatic. "Armie. Right now, I can't imagine my life without him."

"What if I told you that I think you're my soulmate?"

Chris rolled his eyes. Now who was hiding behind humor? 

"I don't mean it like I want to be romantically involved with you. It's not like that," Sebastian said. He ran his hand over his face. "I see you with Euan now and I just think that I belong with you all. I don't want to ever lose that. I would feel like I was missing something if I didn't have that."

"That's really sweet," Chris said. "And trust me, I don't want to ever not have you in my life, but I don't think that's what a soulmate is. Have you been reading too much self-help?"

"Maybe. What are your love languages?"

"Lay off the books, Seb," Chris said. "You're the coolest uncle he has. You're my best friend. Armie appreciates you keeping me as sane as possible. You're good."

"In my experience, when friends have kids, they usually forget about you," Sebastian explained. "And you guys have actually invited me to do more things with you, so that's been just...wow. I like it."

"Is this the runner's high talking?" Chris asked.

"I heard you and Armie talking about moving," Sebastian said. "You were looking at schools for Euan."

"Yeah," Chris said, looking down at his feet. "We were thinking about it, getting him away from L.A. We haven't decided."

"Wow," Sebastian said, squeezing Chris' shoulder. "Does the bungalow have room for me?"

Chris chuckled. "Let's get home," he said. "I'm putting off thinking about that as long as I can."

There wasn't much conversation on the walk back, which was understandable. A few blocks from the house, Chris stopped. He looked up at the eucalyptus trees, the hazy sunshine filtering through their leaves. He reached for Sebastian's hand and pulled him into a hug. "You mean more to me than you'll ever know," he said. "I can't even imagine what things would be like without you."

"No need to get sentimental now," Sebastian said. "Not when you're all sweaty." A few minutes later, they could see Euan and Armie in the driveway. Armie was lobbing kicks across the front of the goal, where Euan slam them home or send them flying over the goal and thudding against the garage door.

"Sebastian," Euan said, out of breath. "Come help daddy."

"Duty calls," Sebastian said, smiling. He took his place opposite Armie and smiled, "Is your dad going to play goalie?"

"No goalies until division eight," Chris said. "I'll take video. How about that?"

***

Chris led Euan out on stage, waving to the crowd, both of them beaming and smiling. "All these people came to see your dad," Armie said, leaning down. The stage was pretty simple, with an chair for and a table with a bottle of water on one side and another chair where the dean of the English department sat during the question and answer portion of the talk. Chris reached for his microphone, which he'd left on the chair, and turned to the audience, which was still clapping and cheering.

The talk had been set up to promote the release of Chris' new book, but it was also a way for students to get some insight into life as a working writer. It had become an annual event, something that some people even looked forward to, but it was also Chris' major contribution to the Hammer Museum. Dru certainly didn't mind the big donation and Chris' publishers didn't mind the free publicity. He focused this talk on experimentation, on the importance of trying new things, and, of course, taking time to explain that even though he did toss in a few real-life experiences into his work, he wasn't just turning tabloid headlines into literary fiction. He knew that some people came just to see if they could get a glimpse of Armie or to hear something about their relationship, but that was fine. If he could inspire one of the writers in the seats to push themselves, it would be worth it.

"This is my wonderful, amazing family," he said. "They're why I can do what I do. Without this support system and the love that I get, there's no way I could tell the stories that I do. It may not be a conventional family, but as you may know by now, I don't write about conventional families."

Chris knelt down and gave Euan a kiss on the temple. "I love you, kiddo."

"Thank you again for coming," Chris said to the crowd as he took hold of Armie's hand.

"You did great," Armie whispered into Chris' ear. He led the three of them backstage, past the gaffers and stage crew, shaking hands and smiling at the hard-working team as they made their way through the winding hallways.

"Tradition," Chris started. "Says that we need to get In-N-Out."

"But it's past this guy's bedtime," Armie pointed out.

"Adulting is tough sometimes," Chris said.

"Did you have a good time?" Armie asked. He scanned the crowd outside the auditorium, knowing that Sebastian was milling around.

"All those people came to hear you talk," Euan said. "That's so cool."

"I see Sebastian," Armie said, raising his hand.

"You're a giant," Chris said, wrapping his arm around Armie's waist. "He never has trouble finding us."

"Let's get going," Armie said when Sebastian came up to them. "Maybe we can get In-N-Out on the way back if the drive-thru isn't crowded."

"It's always crazy," Sebastian said.

Traditions change, Chris thought as they sat around the dining room table. There were burgers and fries, plus milkshakes all around. Euan laughed as he fed Armie fries two at a time, ketchup smearing his lips. If there was ever a reason to have Euan stay up late, this was it.

"So, you're not going to write about someone who goes temporarily deaf," Sebastian said.

"Is that all you got from my talk?"

"People would think it was original," Armie said. "Since nobody knew it happened."

"You guys want to write the book?" Chris asked before taking a bite out of his burger.

"No, no," Sebastian said. "But the movie would be an instant Oscar."

"I call dibs," Armie said.

"Let me enjoy this just a little longer before we joke about it, please," Chris said.

"What do you mean?" Euan asked.

"You'll get it when you're older," Armie said. "We're just having fun."

"All done?" Chris asked, surveying Euan's fries. He nodded and yawned. "Storytime and bedtime, alright, kiddo?"

"I'll handle it," Armie said, getting up.

"I'll clear the table," Chris said. "Have a good night, kiddo."

"You did a good job, dad," Euan said.

"Thank you very much," Chris said, gathering up all the paper wrappers and French fry trays. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Chris got Sebastian a beer from the fridge when the table was tidy again and they settled in on the back patio. Chris heard -- something he was still getting used to again -- Euan come down the stairs again, but before he could say anything about how he was already up too late, he saw something in his hand.

"What do you have there?" Sebastian asked, sitting up straight.

"This is for you," Euan said, his arm outstretched. In his hand, he held his Golden Boot trophy.

"Euan, that means so much," Chris said. "You think I earned the boot?"

"You're the best book writer in AYSO Region 20," Euan said.

"C'mere," Chris said as he put the trophy down and pulled Euan into a tight hug. "I love you so much."

"Can I still keep it in my room?"

"Of course you can," Chris said. "Go on upstairs. Your daddy's waiting, I'm sure."

"I'm not crying, you're crying," Sebastian said as soon as Euan was out of sight.

"This kid," Chris said. "I can't believe it sometimes."

"I'm taking credit for some of that," Sebastian said. "We have a lot of one-on-one time."

Chris stood up and leaned against the low fence that separated the patio from the walking path that went around the canal. The bougainvillea weren't blooming yet, but the lights from the other houses reflected in the calm water, making for a pretty great view. Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The jasmine were in bloom. The smell was almost heady, filling the air and carrying on the gently breeze coming off the ocean.

"Can you believe that I'm about to come out with another book? Do I do another tour? How does that work now that he's in school?" Chris asked. It was mostly to himself, but having Sebastian there was helpful.

How many did he have left to tell? He always told himself that he had too many ideas, that he was a writer who had to edit himself down more than actually creating a simple beginning, middle, and end. Now, he was so focused on Euan, it felt like some of that was gone. It wasn't unusual. He asked around. Everyone, from other writers to the NPR hosts and even the directors that Armie had been working with, told him that things would change, his creative flow included.

"You want to watch a movie?" Sebastian asked. "I love it when you and Armie are cuddling and I am 100% a third wheel laughing to myself."

"Yeah," Chris said. "Euan should be asleep in a few minutes. I can get you another beer and you can choose whatever movie you want."

"Hey," Sebastian added. "If you leave, we won't be able to do this anymore."

***

Armie could barely remember a time before Euan. There were vague recollections, faded memories of trips and events that required tuxedos, where he and Chris would smile for the cameras. It was a far cry from scheduling things around Euan's schedule and Chris' tour. Fortunately for everyone, Chris was flexible. Unfortunately, the publishing world wasn't. Summer called for lighter reading. Heavy, more serious work -- Chris' usual M.O. -- was released at the beginning of the year. That meant Euan in school. It meant that Armie wouldn't be coming along. But with just three stops, it wasn't like the month-long trips he'd taken in the past.

"Washington, D.C.; San Francisco, and New York," Chris said. "If you and Euan can make it out to D.C., we could maybe show him the dinosaurs at the Smithsonian."

"He has pre-season camp," Armie said, tapping at his iPad. Chris took a sip of coffee and tried to get the right email pulled up on-screen. "But that weekend should be...okay. I'll get us flights."

"It's at the Daughters of the American Revolution Constitution Hall," Chris said.

"Alright, bigshot," Armie joked. "Friday, New York. Then, Saturday, Washington. You're back here and then you're up in SF on Friday."

"It sounds worse than it is. Also, I'm just talking. I'm...just talking. People are paying money to come see me talk. It's crazy. What do I have to say that's not in this book?"

"Relax," Armie said. "They're sold out, so people actually paid money to see you talk. You just have to give them what they want, which is your usual mix of charm and weird intellectual stuff."

Chris glanced over the table, which was strewn with a few copies of his new book, two cups of coffee, and way more printouts than necessary. Euan needed new school uniforms. He needed an entire new soccer kit for next season. He needed new cleats. Everything was outlined in pamphlets and workbooks. Armie had his volunteer coach guidelines out and there was a smattering of mail for good measure.

"Hey, you," Armie said when he noticed Chris coming around. He leaned back in his chair and smiled when Chris leaned down for a kiss. He felt a hand on his chest, warmth spreading when it moved up to trace along his neck and jaw.

"The house hasn't been this quiet for weeks," Chris said. "How weird is it?"

Armie pulled Chris down onto his lap and they settled into a familiar tangle, Chris' toes barely grazing the floor and his hands raking through Armie's hair before settling on his shoulders. Armie's hands were on his back as they kissed, tongues sliding against each other and Chris' hips instinctively grinding down into Armie's. Chris pulled away, his back hitting the dining room table, eliciting a chuckle and one more quick kiss. He carefully climbed off and pulled him over to the living room, flooded with the late-morning sunlight.

Armie smiled when Chris pulled his shirt off and straddled him, their lips coming together again, Chris' hands squeezing Armie's shoulders again. Armie's fingers ran over Chris' back as their bodies pressed together, their kiss deepening and Armie's hands moving lower.

"Your skin's so soft," Armie whispered, his lips moving to Chris' neck. He got a groan in response and Chris scrambled to get Armie's shirt off, the skin-on-skin contact sending a jolt of heat through the both of them. "You feel so good."

Chris kissed down Armie's chest, sliding down off the couch, landing on his knees and pulling Armie's shorts down, his lips latching onto Armie's balls as he stroked his dick. A low groan escaped Armie's throat as electricity shot up his spine, his toes curling as Chris' tongue lapped at his balls. Armie's legs spread further apart as Chris licked up his shaft, the hot heat of his mouth making Armie's fingers tangle in his hair. He gripped Chris head as he moved up and down, turning his head just the right way, his lips tight. Armie tossed his head back, his hips rolling slowly, Chris' hand reaching up to feel the muscles of his abs work with every motion. Grunting, Chris moved slower, languidly working Armie's shaft in his mouth. Armie's toes curled every time Chris stopped to lick at his head, his tongue tracing every line and contour. Armie's groans mixed with the wet, slick slurp of Chris' mouth, the once-quiet room filling with the sounds coming from the both of them.

"Get up here," Armie said, his voice gravely. Chris complied, pushing his own shorts down as he climbed back up onto Armie's lap. A few more kisses, more desperate this time, their hands clumsily reaching for any available skin, Armie's hips grinding up and Chris almost whimpering into his mouth. He was on his stomach a second later, Armie pulling him up onto his hands and knees, kisses down his spine.

"Armie," Chris groaned he pushed his ass back, his voice muffled by his own forearm. Armie's mouth locked onto his hole, tongue darting inside. "Oh fuck," he said, his voice trailing off as Armie spread him open, the familiar feeling of Armie's rough stubble bringing a sigh from Chris' lips. Armie nudged Chris' knees apart a few more inches, fucking his tongue through the tight ring of Chris' hole. 

Chris' back arched and he dropped his forehead to the couch, incoherent grunts and groans the only thing he could get out of his mouth. "Is there lube down here?" he heard. Chris' eyes fluttered open and he felt the couch shift behind him. He let out a long breath and flipped over onto his back.

"Hey, who let you do that?" Armie joked, his eyebrow arched. Chris settled in, tossing one leg up on the back of the couch as Armie rifled through a basket of cords and remotes. He pulled out a tube, a smile on his face. Chris bit his lip as he watched Armie slick his cock, his breath got short just seeing it and hitched when he felt Armie's finger slide into him, the cold lube warming up as Armie loosened him up.

Chris groaned as Armie's lips latched onto his neck. Armie pushed in and Chris' eyes rolled back, the wet stretch and deep thrusts making him shiver. Armie sucked and licked, making a point to mark Chris' neck as he pushed in hard, burying every inch of himself in the tight warmth.

"Armie," Chris whispered, waves of heat washing over him as he ran his hands over Armie's arms. He felt the muscles tense with every thrust and he wrapped one leg around Armie's waist, pulling him as close as he could. "Oh my god, Armie," Chris said again, his eyes fluttering open and locking with Armie's. He pulled Armie down for a kiss, licking at his lips and pressing their lip together. Armie's thrusts were long and hard, nailing Chris' prostate and pulling loud, gravely groans from Chris' throat.

Armie pushed Chris' legs apart, rearing back and pounding in deep, Chris' hands running over his chest and abs, a sheen of sweat breaking out over the both of them. Chris gripped the side of the couch, his knuckles white as Armie bruised his prostate, slamming it over and over. Armie watched Chris' neck tense, loved seeing the way Chris' abs clenched tight with very forward push, how his breathing seemed to slow and speed up every time Armie pulled out. The sound of skin smacking almost echoed Chris' grunts. Armie almost growled at the sight of Chris under him, his usually kempt hair messy and tousled, his face and chest flushed. It was rare for either of them to lose their composure and it hit something deep in Armie, drove him to get in deeper, go harder, push the both of them over the edge.

Pulling out, Armie kissed Chris one more time, tongues battling, Chris' body tingling at the sudden loss of sensation. A second later, he was holding onto the back of the couch, knees up, and Armie was standing behind him, pumping steadily. Chris was pushing back against every motion, desperate to feel Armie inside and out. He reached down to stroke himself, his knees almost buckling under him at the feeling. He was close, too close, really, but he couldn't stop. He barreled towards his orgasm, but Armie drove in, grinding deep and pulling Chris' hand away just in time.

"Not yet," Armie said, his voice low. He grabbed onto Chris' shoulders and thrust in, slowing his motions but not letting up on how hard he drove in. Chris' body shook with every pump, almost struggling to maintain his position on the couch. Armie's leg joined his up on the cushion and he leaned down to kiss Chris' shoulders and neck, his hands running down Chris' side and abs, their bodies tangling together again. Both of them were hot and sweaty, struggling to maintain any sense of composure. Chris stumbled, his knee slipping off the smooth leather of the couch, but Armie caught him, fucking in a few more times before setting Chris down on his back, resuming his fucking as Chris' legs came up to his shoulders. That was it. Armie knew Chris couldn't last when every move pounded at his spot, when his entire field of vision was nothing but Armie, when every sound was just the two of them. He shot over his chest and stomach, his whole body clamping tight and his teeth gritting together. Armie watched the orgasm from start to finish, from the full-body quakes to Chris' breathing slowing, his dick leaking as Armie continued to thrust. Chris pulled him down, whimpering into the crook of his neck as Armie rolled his hips. It only took a few more thrusts for him to come, orgasm washing over him from the top of his ears to his toes, his body shaking as he let himself fall on top of Chris, kissing him again, connecting them in every way possible as he shot.

Chris pushed his hair back off his forehead and ran his cheek over Armie's, catching his breath as he came back down. He ran his hands over Armie's back, eyes half-closed as he felt Armie settling down, moving the both of them into a more comfortable position on the sofa. Armie's hands traced lazy patterns on Chris' stomach and he covered his shoulders in tiny, soft kisses.

***

New York in January was cold beyond anything Chris could imagine. He'd been to the city so many times that he should have learned, but nothing he owned -- and, he presumed, nothing sold in California -- could withstand the chill. But he shivered in solitude, hoping that the mad dash from the cab to the theater wouldn't give him frostbite. It was the first thing he told Armie when he landed, and he mentioned it one more time as he was getting ready. Between that, he got the latest on Euan, who managed to ace a spelling test and stumble through word problems in math, and Armie assured him that they were packed and ready to meet him in Washington. One sleep and they'd be reunited. One talk in front of a sold-out theater and one sleep, to be specific.

Chris changed out of his airport uniform of black jeans, black hoodie, and slip-on sneakers into something more presentable as soon as he got to the hotel. He had to make it to Penguin's New York office, sign a few boxes, and head to the venue. Everything was planned to the minute. David knew it would stave off any anxiety and he was right. Chris didn't have time to freak out, between the New York traffic, which was exacerbated by the snow, and having to meet people he'd only corresponded with via email at the office, things were too hectic for a meltdown.

"Has being a dad changed the way you work?" It was a junior-level editor asking. Chris guessed there were no interns in the office, since it was just after the Christmas break. College students wouldn't be back until the end of the month.

"It's been an adjustment," Chris said, not looking up. He was signing furiously, "Christopher Hammer" barely amounting more than a C and a scribble. He told himself to slow down. People wanted to be able to read his name. "It's easier now that he's in school. I'm back to my old routine. It was different when he was younger."

"Is it true that you're already working on the next one?"

"I've always got things to think about," Chris said. "I just don't ever know what'll make a whole book. David helps. We actually workshop a lot, probably more than he'd like."

"I'd love to be in on those emails," he said. "I'm still shadowing, they let me work on a cookbook once."

"That sounds cool," Chris said. "But if you want to get into more lit fic and away from that, I'll tell David for sure. You can be on all our emails."

"Really?" He lit up immediately.

"Yeah. It's fine with me," Chris said, sitting back and tossing a dull Sharpie in the trash can. He picked up another and uncapped it, loving the smell and the new, sharp tip. "Just prepare yourself for a lot of nonsense coming from my end."

"Thank you. That's incredible," he said.

"Don't mention it," Chris said, carefully signing his name this time around. He tried to run through the talk in his head. He'd chosen a passage to read and practiced it at home, even though Euan and Armie weren't the most objective audience. Euan preferred Paddington, anyway.

"You've got two more boxes. Then, we should head out. Did they already give you a tour?"

"Yes," Chris said. The office was pretty great. Views of the Hudson River, big windows, and big posters of book covers. Sure, there was the usual sea of cubicles, but Chris couldn't help but smile when he saw one of his covers in the lobby and another near the executive offices. He even took a selfie to send to Armie, strategically covering up his previous last name with some clever camera angles and an outstretched arm. "How do you spell your name?"

"The usual way. J-A-C-K-S-O-N."

Chris wrote the letters as Jackson spoke, adding "all the best" and signing it. "That's for you," he said. "Hopefully you didn't get an advanced copy."

"Thank you so much. Again," Jackson said. "For everything, really. It means a lot."

"Last one," Chris said a few minutes later. He slid it over to Jackson, who'd been packing them back into the boxes. Chris wasn't sure where this particular batch would go, but he did take minute to look over the cover, which was in line with his last few books: white cover, bold black block letters in a red rectangle, and his name along the bottom.

"Your titles are always so cool," Jackson said, admiring his copy. "How did you think of this one?"

"Honestly, usually, it just happens," Chris said. "But Armie helped with this one."

"Does he do that a lot?"

"No. He stays out of my books as much as he can, but I asked him if he liked this better or another one I was thinking of and he chose this one," Chris explained. He ran his fingers over the title: "Mapping Clouds." It was loftier than he normally went, but it made sense. Much of the book involved looking up at the sky, which Armie seemed to notice more than any of the characters' relationships. Chris went with it.

"How much time do I have before I should head to the theater?"

"It's just down the street. Less than a block," Jackson said.

"Great. That gives me time for coffee," Chris said.

Chris never knew what to do at the end of these talks. If there was someone asking him questions, he'd always shake their hand. He'd always wave to the crowd and mouth "thank you" as much as he could, but was he supposed to take a bow? It helped when Armie was backstage. He'd pull Armie and Euan out, wave to the audience, maybe pop Euan up onto his hip and give him a kiss. But without that, he made do with the usual wave and awkward walk to the wings. As soon as he was out of sight, he leaned against a wall and took a deep breath, eyes shut. One down, two to go.

When he opened his eyes, he smiled and straightened up, taking a glance at his watch and pulling his phone out to let Armie know that everything was fine.

"Hey you."

Chris didn't even have to look to see who it was. The voice was enough. "You came."

"Nobody would turn down an invitation to see you," Jake said. His hair was longer. His beard was longer, too, but his blue eyes and crooked smile were exactly the same.

Jake's hug felt almost unfamiliar. The bulky muscles were so different from what he'd gotten used to with Armie. Even the smell of Jake's cologne seemed foreign. It was strange and new, even though it was something he'd done a million times. "You did great," Jake said. "But you know that."

"Thank you," Chris said. He ran his hands down Jake's arms, grazing his biceps and reaching down to hold Jake's hand in a loose grip.

"Heard this is the best book yet," Jake said.

"That's what they always say," Chris said. He couldn't help the blush that came over him or the lingering touch as he kept his fingers hooked in Jake's.

"How's Euan?" Jake asked.

"He's amazing," Chris said. "Incredible. I can't even explain it. Every day is just...wow."

"Sounds sweet," Jake said. "Armie knows you invited me, right?"

"Yes," Chris said. "I was hoping the girls would come, too. Is it weird that they've never met my kid?"

"I don't think so," Jake said. "Are you in a rush? Is there an after-party or something?"

"No. I'm just going back to my hotel. I am taking the Acela down to D.C. tomorrow."

"The W?"

"I'm a creature of habit."

"Let's talk," Jake said. Chris followed him through the bowels of the theater and a few minutes later, they were out in the cold, hands shoved deep in their coat pockets. They got the small talk out of the way as they walked, their hot breath filling the frigid air with puffs of condensation. Jake asked about Armie and Euan, lighting up when Chris recounted his golden boot and the very real possibility of him getting into soccer camp. Chris listened as Jake described outings with Ramona and Gloria. A block and a half later, Chris was sipping on a Diet Coke and Jake was taking slow sips of cold sake. They'd found a sushi place where nothing was in English and the entire restaurant only sat six people.

"I didn't think I'd be single again," Jake said. "But what do I know about how things are supposed to work?"

"You're...impulsive," Chris said, pulling his chopsticks apart. They ordered the omakase and Chris was prepping for an onslaught of sushi. "I know that better than anyone." It struck him that the last time they sat down for a meal alone, it was sushi, too. He wasn't the only person who stuck to a habit.

"Do you think I'd make a good dad?"

"Yes. Much better than me," Chris said. "When I think about it, it feels pretty weird. But I think he's going to turn out okay."

"I'm sure you two manage," Jake said. "He seems like a good guy. You're obviously very happy."

The first few courses came quick, almost too fast for the two of them to carry on a conversation, but the sushi chef seemed to notice the lull in their talking and slowed down the next plates. "Does Armie ever worry about you out here by yourself?"

"Does he have anything to worry about?" Chris asked, leaning in closer, his eyes locked onto Jake's. His hand darted out, chopsticks snagging some wasabi off of Jake's plate. He loved the sting in his nose.

"No, he doesn't," Jake said, chuckling. "Don't think I didn't notice that."

Chris glanced at his phone, which lit up with a message from Armie. "Check it out," Chris said, letting Jake take a look at the photo, which showed Armie and Euan out on the patio together.

"That's sweet," Jake said. "He looks like you."

"People say that," Chris said. A few more pieces of sushi and the two of them were stuffed. When the bill came, Chris slid his card in. "I have the book deal and the movie rights."

"I have a new Marvel contract," Jake objected.

"You're a bad guy. That's a one-movie contract," Chris said. "Don't think I don't read the industry rags after Armie's through with them."

"Don't think I don't keep up with my ex," Jake mimicked. "You're in the industry papers, too."

"Well, not because I want to be," Chris said as they bundled up again. After he put his scarf on, Chris followed Jake out of the restaurant and grabbed at his hand instinctively. "Sorry," he said. "Habit."

"Yeah, I know," Jake said, pulling Chris into a tight hug. "Miss doing this."

"Are we sharing a cab?"

Jake ran his hands up Chris' back, "Yeah. This was nice. Only slightly uncomfortable."

"You're the one making it more uncomfortable than necessary," Chris said.

Jake laughed softly, "Guess I miss you more than I'm willing to admit."


	2. Chapter 2

Armie held onto Euan's hand as they made their way through the Smithsonian. It wasn't crowded, which could be due to the snow outside, but it was still enough for Armie to keep the kid close. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slack as they walked by each exhibit. Armie couldn't even imagine how he'd react to the planes and rockets at the Air and Space Museum. Chris was a few paces behind them, tapping away at his phone. He was responding to the dozens of emails congratulating him on his talks in New York and the one he just finished up.

"Dad," Euan said. "That's a T-rex."

Chris slid his phone back into his coat pocket. "That's your favorite," Chris said. "This is way better than the La Brea Tar Pits, right?"

"Way better," Euan confirmed.

"Is there a stegosaurus around here?" Armie asked. Euan's eyes quickly darted around the main hall, which was just one huge display. There wasn't a stegosaurus in sight. There were plenty of other rooms, however, and Chris assumed that they'd be spending most of the day in here.

Armie wrapped his arm around Chris' waist. "Remember when you were here all the time?"

"I was fighting for equal rights," Chris said. "As best I could."

"We didn't get to see dinosaurs during those trips," Armie said, kissing Chris' temple. They followed Euan through the museum, letting him lead the way through the linked rooms and the interactive exhibits.

"My grandparents wanted me to go to school out here," Chris said. "They always thought everything was better on the East Coast."

"How did you end up at Stanford?" Armie asked.

"I was too scared to move across the country," Chris said. "So, I settled for a four-hour drive."

"I have a feeling our kid won't have any problem dropping us," Armie said. "He's independent. He's hard-headed."

"He's six," Chris said. "We might be thinking about this a little too soon." They did it a lot. 

Chris couldn't help but think about it. Before he left, he'd been applying to get Euan into the private schools in Santa Barbara. While the trip was a nice diversion from that, having Euan bouncing around was a reminder that there were big decisions to be made. Chris pushed it out of his mind, focusing on the dinosaurs instead. He wondered when Euan would start worrying about real life decisions.

"We should have planned to be here more than a day," Armie said. "He's obsessed."

Mammoths and saber-tooth cats were less interesting than the dinosaurs and their bones, so they did manage to make it through the museum in just a few hours. And there were plenty of photo ops at the National Mall, too, even though Euan didn't really seem to understand just how much history was surrounding him. Just the mere mention of rockets and planes at the Air and Space Museum seemed to give him a second wind and while they walked over towards that museum, he took his usual spot a few steps in front of Chris and Armie.

"Daddy," Euan said. "Today is like the book I wrote. Dinosaurs and rocket ships."

"You're exactly right," Armie said.

"We can't do the things in dad's books," Euan said. "People are always sad in his books. That's what my teacher said. And also Sebastian. And Robbie."

"Yeah, they're right," Chris said. "There are a few where people aren't sad but nobody remembers those. I wrote a happy ending once or twice."

"Did people like those books?"

"No, actually," Chris said.

"Yes, they did," Armie said. "Your dad's just being modest."

Armie loved watching Chris with Euan. There was a love and admiration that he didn't see in other kids. Euan loved everything about Chris, that much was clear. And Chris had a way of treating Euan like a small adult, which was endearing and silly, especially when that small adult was shocked into silence at the sight of rocket ships, space capsules, and satellites. Chris always thought of himself as the stricter parent and he played to that when he needed to, but Armie knew that Euan could see right through it. He had his dads wrapped around his finger.

Two talks down, just one more to go. Chris felt like the book promotion was over before it even started. Part of him felt great about it -- he'd be back home with Euan in no time -- but he felt like he wasn't doing the book enough justice. He'd have to shoot David an email about hitting NPR again. He knew that they were pushing the book in newspapers and a few magazines. Some more promotion couldn't hurt. It was a strange place to be. He didn't want to oversaturate ever media outlet but there had to be more he could do.

"I used to speak in Seattle, Atlanta, Dallas...am I not a hot commodity anymore?" Chris asked.

"I think David knows that you have a family now and you can't do that," Armie said. "Maybe when he's older you'll be back to your regularly scheduled programming."

"But I can," Chris said. "I'm doing it right now. You and Euan are here. We could have booked it all on Saturdays."

"Honestly, I think he did his best," Armie said. "The venues have schedules to juggle, too."

"Dad, can we see the movie?" Euan asked, pointing up at a marquee with a photo of the moon landing.

"Yes," Armie and Chris said simultaneously.

The movie was the perfect distraction. The 45 minutes gave Chris time to decompress and spending some time in the quiet was just the thing to get his mind to slow down. By the time they made their way past the rockets, past the Spirit of St. Louis, and took photos by just about every replica spacecraft, Euan was finally ready to go. It was a whirlwind trip, but Chris was positive that they'd be back. It was special to he and Armie and he felt connected to that, as weird as it seemed. Coming to Washington always gave him a sense of hope, that somehow, what he was doing could make some change. And now that Euan was in their lives, a big part of Chris -- and Armie, too -- wanted to make sure that the world was a better place for him.

Back at the hotel, Chris flipped through the photos they'd taken as Armie and Euan washed up. There they were, smiling with the Washington Monument behind them. A big hug in front of the Capitol Building. Seeing the excitement on Euan's eyes made his heart swell and seeing the love and pride in Armie's eyes made his whole body warm. It was strange to think that tomorrow, they'd be back at home and gearing up for their normal routine. Chris put his feet up on the coffee table and set his phone down in his lap. Euan scampered into the room, jumping up to join Chris on the couch. He smelled like toothpaste.

"What book did your dad pack for you?"

"The Little Prince," Euan said. "We read Paddington."

"Really?" Chris said. "Armie, you're reading him this already?"

"He picked it," Armie said from the bedroom. He joined the two of them wearing boxer shorts and a grey T-shirt. Chris had to admit the cover illustration seemed tailor-made for a kid obsessed with space.

"Okay. How about I read you a little bit and we call it a night?" Chris asked, smoothing Euan's hair off his forehead. He leaned over and kissed Euan's forehead. 

"Did you have fun today, Euan?" Armie asked.

"I had the best day," Euan said, smiling. "When we go home, I'm going to tell Sebastian that I saw a wooly mammoth. He likes them."

"You're the sweetest boy," Chris said. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

"I love you, Euan," Armie said.

"Love you, daddy."

Armie kicked his legs up onto the arm of the couch after Chris and Euan went to the bedroom. He'd spent the entire flight over reading reviews of Chris' newest book and he still had a few to finish up. It was, he thought, a return to form after the book with the happy ending that Chris never really liked. Critics kept mentioning that it was his longest book ever, comparing it to a Dickensian epic -- which was Chris' intention all along -- but were split over whether or not it was unnecessarily sad. Chris never shied away from raw emotion, characters dying, and family tragedy, so Armie did feel that those comments were out of line. If Chris had read any of the reviews, and Armie knew he had to by now, he didn't talk about it. Even though they'd been together for so long, Chris didn't often share his entire creative process. He'd outline his plots with Armie, maybe work through a character, but Armie never saw the pieces come together until he got a look at a working draft. 

Armie added to his mental scoresheet: New York Times positive. The Atlantic gave "Mapping Clouds" a warm review. L.A. Times, two thumbs up. The bad reviews came from websites that were more focused on pop culture than actual books. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a yawn. The books were a big deal. Before they ever met, they were what Armie knew about Chris. Sure, there were tabloids and that weird reputation he had for being a recluse, but it was the books and the few rare interviews that Armie latched onto.

"Do you need to be tucked in, too?" Chris said, coming back to the couch. He settled in, kissing Armie's lips softly before laying his head in Armie's lap. 

"That was quick."

"We only got through a few pages," Chris explained. "He's exhausted. What are you looking at?"

"Checking into our flight for tomorrow," Armie said.

"We're the worst for making him miss a day of school," Chris said. "The other parents are going to judge us."

"They already do," Armie said. "Not every kid gets both of his parents at home with him all the time."

"Most of the time," Chris said. "Well, all the time for me."

"He's lucky. Missing a day of school to see the Smithsonian isn't depriving him of anything."

Armie ran his fingers gently through Chris' hair, listening to his soft, quiet, even breathing. He could almost feel the wheels and cogs of Chris' brain working. "Sold out all my talks. Can you believe it?"

"Yes. You always sell out," Armie said. "When you're not reserving entire sections for college kids."

"The future is important. You see it for yourself now that Euan's around." Chris let out a contented sigh. Everything seemed right in the world, minus the fact that they were in a hotel suite and not the comfort of their actual home. Chris couldn't wait to sleep in his own bed again, even though it'd only been a few nights. He knew part of it was being alone, across the country, and balancing the nervousness of public speaking with the strange euphoria of receiving a standing ovation.

"When's the last time we just sat together like this? I can't even remember."

"Thursday," Chris said. "Right before I had to grab groceries."

"Weren't we making out the whole time?"

"You gave me a hickey," Chris said, shaking his head slightly as he remembered. "I still have it."

Armie chuckled, pulling Chris up and kissing him softly. A hickey wasn't in the plans for tonight, but he had plenty of other things on his mind.

***

Chris stared at his open suitcase, wondering why he even bothered unpacking when he'd be heading to San Francisco in just a few days. Well, he had to get his favorite hoodie out, but other than that, he could keep the boots and jackets packed up.

"Three times four," Chris said, shuffling through the clothes.

"12," Euan answered. 

"Good. Three times five."

"15," Euan said, flipping over onto his stomach. He was on his dads' bed, hoping Chris would hurry up so that they could either watch cartoons or go to the pier. He didn't know which he wanted to do more.

"Four times one," Chris said, pulling his hoodie out. The strings were chewed up and the cuffs and hem were fraying. He couldn't even remember how old it was, but he'd never ever get rid of it, even though it was starting to look like it'd seen better days.

"Four. That's too easy."

Chris straightened everything else in the suitcase and shut it. "Four times two." He stood up and pushed it into the walk-in closet. 

"Eight," Euan said, sitting up. If his dad was done with his luggage, it meant they were one step closer to doing something fun. Plus, he was almost done with his math practice.

"Four times three," Chris said, leaning against the doorframe.

"12," Euan said. "Same as three times four. Four times four is 16."

"Perfect. Are we doing fives?"

"Five, 10, 15, 20, 25," Euan said. "Can we go to the beach?"

Chris glanced outside, seeing nothing but blue skies. He wanted to get some air and sun as much as his son did. "Yeah, let's go and take a walk. Is daddy downstairs?"

Before Chris got a response, Euan was rushing downstairs to see for himself. Chris pulled the hoodie on and followed, though at a slower, more reasonable pace. "Daddy's here," Euan said from the patio.

"I was told that we finished math and we're going to the pier," Armie said, setting down what looked like a script. He stretched his arms up over his head.

"Coffee," Chris said. "Pier. Normal after-school routine, right?"

"I'll get my shoes on," Armie said, smiling. Euan wrapped his arms around his dad.

A few minutes later, the three of them were making trek to the pier. They'd done it a million times, with Armie and Chris walking, hand-in-hand, and Euan a few steps in front of them. The tourists were gone and the sidewalks were wide open, even down by the water. They made their usual loop down to the sand, where they saw dogs walking, bikes zooming by, and the last of the volleyball players practicing. Chris never got tired of watching them during the summer, when there were tournaments all the time and the tall, muscular players, with their tan skin and silly visors, were on full display. Armie's grip tightened on his hand just as Chris' mind started to fill with images of six packs and board shorts.

"When I was growing up on the Islands, I'd go to the beach every day. It never got old," Armie said.

"I don't think it ever could," Chris said. "I think that's why I can't get away from it. Santa Barbara, Malibu, Venice. The rents are high, but I can't get away. As much as I wanted to be a big bad New York writer, I could never do it."

"Thank goodness for that show," Armie said, chuckling. It had been a godsend, Chris thought. When Euan came and that steady work came, it was what let the two of them lay off the gas and focus on their kid. Chris owed so much to Robbie and Greg. There was no way he could ever pay them back.

"They actually wanted me to come up with a spin-off," Chris said, keeping his voice low. "Greg really liked working with me and he said he wanted me to think about it."

"That's great," Armie said. "All you did was rattle off ideas for them and toss together a few outlines, right?"

"It was more than that," Chris said, rolling his eyes. The wind was starting to pick up and he glanced over to make sure Euan's jacket was zipped up. He was petting dogs and talking to their owners just a few paces away. "But David had some issues with that. I have to think about it."

"What's there to think about?"

"We'd have to stay here," Chris said. "And I didn't think we'd figured that out yet."

"Oh. That," Armie said. "The more we think about it, the more complicated it gets."

Chris hooked his fingers in Armie's and leaned against the railing of the pier. "What do you think he wants?" Chris motioned to Euan, who was watching the waves roll in under the pier.

"I guarantee you that all he cares about right now is playing soccer, probably with AYSO Region 20," Armie said. "But both of us know that he doesn't have trouble making new friends."

"You don't help when you argue both sides."

Armie ran his fingertips down Chris' spine, pulling him close when his hand reached the small of his back. He leaned in, kissing Chris' forehead. "We'll figure it out. It'll be okay," Armie said.

"I checked. He'd be AYSO Region 122."

"Don't be a smartass," Armie said. He kissed Chris, enjoying the moment just long enough before he felt Euan pulling at his hand.

"He caught a fish," he said. Chris and Armie looked down the pier, where a few guys managed to catch something out of the water.

"And it's time for coffee," Chris said, hoping to avoid seeing the part where the fisherman gutted their catch.

"Euan," Armie said, reaching for his hand. "Lead the way."

***

Armie took the last bite of his bagel and brushed the crumbs off his hands, getting up off of the lounge chair and checking his phone. Chris had only been gone for a few hours and he already felt listless. There was plenty he could do, that he should do, but he was too antsy to straighten up the house or do laundry. He took a cursory glance around the living room and noticed that Chris had actually done most of it. Armie couldn't actually recall seeing Chris ever cleaning up after him or Euan, but the house never got messy. He knew that Chris was relieved that Euan had moved past the plastic-toys-all-over-the-place phase, which ushered in tons of colorful doodads all over the place. Now, things were just about back to normal, aside from a few baskets that were brimming with toys. At least they were contained, Chris had said. He could live with that.

'You're bored already, aren't you?' It was a message from Chris. 'My plane has Wi-Fi.'

'The house is too quiet.'

'I'm not that loud.'

'I like being quiet with you.'

Armie sat down on Chris' usual kitchen stool. It was his spot, where he could survey both Armie in the kitchen and Euan in the living room. He could have his computer open, his journal laid out, and still not miss any of the action. He did more of his brainstorming in this spot than anywhere else in the house. Armie knew he still wrote upstairs or out on the patio, but he and Euan knew this was dad's chair. It's where stuff happened.

'I saw your new spread. You look good.'

'I bought a copy at the airport.'

Armie reached across the counter for the latest issue of "Esquire" and flipped to the dog-eared spread. Inside, Chris' interview about balancing dad life and keeping his own identity while maintaining a professional life. It was par for the course and as Armie skimmed the article, there wasn't really anything unexpected or surprising. The photos, however, which showed Chris at the Getty Center wearing the latest coats and sweaters, did bring a smile to Armie's face. It wasn't often that Chris took high-profile interviews, but he knew that they were important. Armie did his best to push Chris into them, but he and David knew that unless it was something a few degrees removed from the world of "Us Weekly" and "People," Chris always vetoed it. He looked great, though, and maybe Armie only thought the article was bland because he lived the life described in those words with Chris. Fans would undoubtedly love it and Chris looked good in the clothes. 

'You look amazing in that black sweater.'

'You have a thing for me in black sweaters. Tight sweaters.'

'I have a thing for you.'

'Are you lonely already?'

'Are you going to turn that plane around if I say yes?' Armie could almost hear Chris chuckling. Chris was accustomed to being by himself. Armie definitely wasn't. While Chris could spend hours working, headphones on, no human contact, Armie would drive himself crazy in the same situation. Every chance he got he'd be on the couch up in Chris' office, even if it was just to be in the room with him.

'I haven't even gotten the chance to miss you yet.' A few moments went by before Chris' next message: 'I love you.'

Chris barely had time to order a soda from the flight attendant before his phone buzzed again. Armie was like an overactive child when he was bored, he needed constant stimulation. 'Love you.'

"Do you want chocolate chip cookies or Cheez-Its?" Sebastian asked, nudging Chris' arm.

"Cheez-Its," Chris said, looking up from his phone. "Thank you." He glanced around the cabin. He was sitting in the window seat and Sebastian was next to him, brazenly reading a copy of "Mapping Clouds" like he wasn't sitting next to the man who actually wrote it. Chris couldn't believe he lugged the huge hardcover around when he'd sent him an electronic version. Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention aside from the flight crew.

'What are you wearing?'

Armie's brow furrowed. 'Are you serious?'

'I'd love a dick pic,' Chris replied quickly. A smile came to his lips. If he kept the messages coming at a rapid-fire pace, Armie wouldn't have time to actually think about it. 'I'll make it worth your time.'

'I'm downstairs in a T-shirt and running shorts.'

'Go to the full-length mirror,' Chris typed.

'Isn't it a little early to be sending pictures of my junk?'

"Can you do me a favor?" Chris asked Sebastian.

"Yeah, what do you need?"

"Don't move." Chris leaned over towards Sebastian as close as he could and held his phone up, trying his best not to bring any attention to the two of them. "Don't freak out." He feigned kissing at Sebastian's jawline, his eyes locked on his phone screen, but his lips definitely pressed against stubbly skin, close enough to Sebastian's lips to make things interesting but not quite a full-on kiss. Sebastian complied, his half-lidded bedroom eyes were perfect. Armie didn't have to know it was because he was tired. There was a fine line between looking exhausted and completely alluring that Sebastian was hitting just right. "Thanks."

He sent the photo to Armie. Sebastian just snickered and shook his head before getting back to his reading.

Armie shuddered. He felt his entire body tingle and a wave of heat went straight to his dick. 'You have to do better than that.' He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he headed upstairs. He couldn't believe he was even considering it.

"You two are something else," Sebastian said, not looking up from his book. Chris looked over. Was he actually blushing?

"I'm just joking," Chris said. "He'd never do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Chris said. He took a slow sip of his Coke.

'You're a tease,' Armie sent through.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Sorry in advance," he said. He pulled Sebastian towards him and kissed him, softly pulling at his lower lip and pressing their foreheads together before pulling away. It was more playful than anything else, but while Chris watched the footage back, those few seconds looked very sincere. "Let's see if that video does it."

"Not funny," Sebastian said. "What are you even doing?"

"Being cute."

"Being weird."

Armie shucked his T-shirt off and stood in front of the mirror. He offered his best smolder, pulled his shoulders back, and snapped a few pictures. He flipped through them and sent one before he could second-guess himself. His stomach fluttered. Confidence wasn't something he lacked and Chris had seen him without a shirt on more times than they could count -- and with even less just as much. He didn't know why he felt so nervous. That clip of Chris kissing Sebastian was seared in his mind. He always joked -- usually after one too many drinks, sometimes even in front of Sebastian -- that maybe, sometimes, when he was super turned on, he thought about watching the two of them together. How couldn't he? They were always coming home together, sweaty, short of breath, and flushed. 

He got back a heart emoji and nothing else.

"Can I get to the bathroom?" Chris asked as he put his tray table up and undid his seatbelt. Sebastian did the same and got up into the aisle to let Chris get by.

"Please don't tell me you're going to the bathroom to send him a picture," he said, his voice low.

"No. Gross," Chris said. He tossed his phone onto the seat. "I had two coffees and a Coke. I just need to use the bathroom."

Sebastian settled back in when Chris' phone lit up. He glanced over and picked it up. Before he could even register what was happening, the phone recognized his face and unlocked, revealing a full-body photo of Armie in the mirror, his hand wrapped around his hard cock and his eyes dark and needy. 

"God," Sebastian said before he dropped the phone. He'd forgotten that he'd put his own face on Chris' phone as a joke. Now, the joke was on him. He had to admit that Armie did know how to compose a photo. The light hit him just right, he angled his body to make himself look even longer and leaner and, of course, there was that expression.

"Hey," Chris said. "Can I get back in there or do you want to sit by the window?"

"I'm fine," Sebastian said, getting back up. Chris got back in his spot and picked his phone up. Sebastian heard his breath hitch and noticed him squirm a little.

'I didn't think you'd do that,' Chris sent.

'I miss you,' Armie said. 'I miss you a lot. Miss your mouth on me. Miss being on top of you.'

'Okay, that's enough,' Chris sent back. 'You're getting me too worked up. I'll call you later. Take care of that boner.'

"Everything good?" Sebastian asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Chris said, his voice breathy. "Armie's just being Armie."

Sebastian let out a soft laugh. If Armie kept being this particular Armie all weekend, things would definitely be interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

Armie could tell that the other parents were wondering where Chris was. They didn't do a good job of hiding their surprise to see that he'd show up at the new coach orientation. It was the reason he couldn't go to San Francisco. The initial meeting was mandatory for any of the parents who wanted to volunteer. That was the weird part, Armie thought, that there were so many rules for what amounted to a volunteer position. Wasn't he doing the entire team a favor by wanting to be a coach in the first place?

"File all your paperwork with Gabby at the first table and then just go down the line for your kit." Armie listened intently, his eye shooting down the row of folding tables set up at the Santa Monica Sports Complex. Euan was at another part of the complex, hoping to show off his skill set and jump out of his age group. He'd begged Chris and Armie to at least give him the chance to try. He'd been running the drills nonstop in the front yard to prepare.

"My kid is supposed to get a physical and take a test today, will we finish up before he does?" Armie asked.

"We planned it all out. Everyone will finish up at the same time." Armie nodded, rifling through his papers and handing over the right ones. 

"I heard that Chris was in a magazine this month," Armie looked over his shoulder at the statement. "I'm Noah. Jonathan Nunez's dad." He extended a hand and Armie offered a firm shake. 

"Nice to finally meet you. I know Euan and Jonathan are friends out there. Did you see him in Esquire?"

"Yeah. Good clothes. It'll be nice having a new coach," Noah said. "But Johnny did tell me that Euan's trying to jump up."

"Yeah, he thinks he's David Beckham out there sometimes," Armie said. "We just didn't want to discourage him."

"We didn't really know what to expect when he joined," Noah continued. "We all knew you guys were friends with Robbie and we didn't know how to talk about the whole adoption thing, but everything's cool."

"Yeah, he knows," Armie said. "It's not unusual at his school or even here. I know that some of the other kids were adopted, too."

"A few," Noah said as they walked down, picking up papers and dropping off others. "Also didn't know what to expect with you being...you. We didn't know if photographers would come to the games."

"Sorry we let you down in that department," Armie said, grinning. "We're pretty boring, especially now with Euan, they leave us alone. The magazines can't run a photo of him without permission." He was happy for this small talk, for the distraction of this entire ordeal. Chris would be gone all weekend and Armie was thankful for anything to keep his mind off how much he missed his husband. Even Friday night dinner with his mom felt like a great time.

"The other parents are excited to have you on the squad," Noah said. "Chris is great, too, but he didn't really seem interested in being a coach."

Armie followed behind Noah, smiling and introducing himself. He'd been at enough games to recognize most of the parents and volunteers, but he didn't know anyone's name. Everyone knew his, though, and only had great things to say about Euan, which made Armie's heart swell. Robbie was right. Strikers got the spotlight. And Euan being his son, it wasn't surprising he felt right at home being the center of attention.

Just as he thought of Robbie, Armie spotted him. He always opted out of being a coach because of what seemed like an unfair advantage to the other teams, but he was always great about volunteering, too.

"Hey," Robbie said, giving Armie's bicep a squeeze. "Is Chris here?"

"He had a talk in San Francisco," Armie said. "And he decided to stay all weekend with Seb."

"Sounds fun," Robbie said. "You're missing it for this?"

"Are you putting your name on the coach list this season?"

"No, I'm just dropping Caleb's stuff off. He's out there watching Euan."

Armie nodded. "Nice. Noah and I have some stuff to get through for this coaching thing, but do you and Greg want to bring Caleb over later? The house is weirdly empty."

"I would, but we have plans," Robbie said.

"No problem," Armie said. "I'll get back to my thing now, then, and I'll see you soon."

"Tell Chris I said hi," Robbie said, leaning in and giving Armie a hug. "Sorry about tonight. Have a good time with Noah and the other parents." He gave Armie a sly wink. "If you guys need any advice, hit me up."

It was an hour of listening to an official AYSO representative tell them not to take the game too seriously, to make sure all the boys got playing time, and that more than anything, they were all there to have fun. Armie rubbed his eyes and tried to process it all, hoping that Euan wasn't dealing with the same amount of boredom and information overload.

"Don't worry, it's all a formality," Noah said quietly. "When we actually get out on the field, it's easy."

"I want to see Euan out there with the 8-year-olds," Armie said. "I'm going to head out early to see what the coaches are saying." He slipped out as quietly as he could and was grateful to feel the warm sun on his skin. The smell of the grass, the faint sound of whistles and kids, and the cool ocean breeze all came together around him and simply followed the sounds to get to the fields.

***

Sebastian and Chris wandered through the de Young Museum, taking everything in and not really looking at anything all at once. While the greatest works of Gaugin were interesting enough, Chris couldn't help but feel a little bit listless. After the high of the applause had worn off the night before, he knew that he was missing Euan's tryout, but Armie had insisted that he stay in the City with Sebastian. Have a little bit of fun, Armie said. He'd had his fun on the plane teasing Armie. Now, part of him wanted to be at home.

"He's going to be fine either way," Sebastian said. "It's more about playing the game than moving up. He's going to be happy as long as he's kicking the ball around."

"I know," Chris said, sitting down on a bench. The messages from Armie were pretty vague. No news either way, but plenty of photos of their son running drills

"I went to the meeting last year to check it out. They just talk. I'm not surprised Armie left early."

"How's your head?" Chris asked. Even though he didn't partake in his publisher's after-party libations, Sebastian did. He partied enough for the both of them. After Chris had signed books outside the auditorium, after he'd posed for photos, and even pulled Sebastian in for a few, they made their way to a Polynesian tiki bar that David had rented out and the tropical drinks flowed for hours. When he had to pull Sebastian's jeans off and tuck him into bed, the thought of being too old for this kind of thing crossed his mind.

"Fine. The carbs helped," Sebastian said. "You never told me that book people were so...celebratory."

"They don't usually have parties like that," Chris explained. "I think it was just to congratulate everyone on the tour and the book and everything else. Everyone knows I don't do parties."

"And now onto the next, right?" Sebastian said. He took a seat next to Chris.

"I have no idea," Chris said, resting his head on Sebastian's shoulder. "I honestly don't know."

"There are a lot of coffee shops we haven't gotten to yet," Sebastian said, patting Chris on the back. "Where next?"

"How wired are you going to be?" Chris asked. "You were pretty gross this morning."

"I'll survive," Sebastian said.

"We can go back to the hotel," Chris insisted. "I've been to San Francisco before. I'll be back."

"No, no. I want to see a few things. Show me everything. Didn't you go to college here?"

All it took was a few hours for them to crisscross the city and sample coffee from all the big names Sebastian had seen on Instagram. Chris did his best to be a good tour guide, pointing out some of the famous buildings he knew and trying his best to show Sebastian the side of San Francisco that he knew from coming up all the time in college. Palo Alto was a whole other world, but having a big city like SF just an hour away meant he was up there pretty often. He realized between lattes that he'd always managed to stay on the fringes that way. Santa Barbara put him two hours out of L.A. Now that he and Armie were in Venice, he was at least an hour away from Burbank and Studio City, where he and Armie always had to go for meetings and work. Maybe it was an unconscious thing that stayed with him from his days of riding bikes along the beach and playing with the other kids in the neighborhood. It was what he grew up with, it only made sense he'd want it for Euan.

"Union Square is pretty at night, isn't it?" Chris asked, watching as Sebastian snapped a few photos.

"Does Penguin always put you up at the Four Seasons?"

"No, I always stay at the W. I just wanted to impress you."

"I'm a sure thing," Sebastian said, smiling. "I talked to Margarita about it."

"You guys are so on and off, just let me know when you're engaged so I know when to get invested."

"We took a break. A long one, but we're working on it. I didn't want to be with someone in the same line of work as me."

"What changed your mind?"

"She saw me with Euan. She gave me another chance."

"Oh," Chris said. "I guess I won't ever show her that photo of me kissing you."

"We were kissing," Sebastian said. "No big deal."

"I won't do it again."

"Let's not take it that far," Sebastian joked. "Who knows when you'll need it again."

"When are our dinner reservations? You promised me Michelin stars."

"Honestly, the burritos in the Mission are better, but if I need to wine and dine you, I made a reservation for 7."

"Is it going to be a lot of very small food?"

"Exactly."

"Then we'll have room for burritos."

Sebastian was right. After they'd had their fill of haute cuisine, they hopped into an Uber straight for the Mission District, where Chris had spent almost all of his time in the city recently. It's where Dave Eggers set up his writing workshop for creative writing, 826 Valencia. Chris had spoken there a few times, worked with the kids, and even had a book signing to raise money for the nonprofit. It also happened to be in the heart of the neighborhood, so Chris knew where to get the good burritos, stuffed with French fries and so much meat that he and Sebastian decided to split one.

The city was different at night. While the chill was definitely more prominent, the energy changed. Chris and Sebastian watched as people came out to play instead of heading to work. Unlike Los Angeles, where people always went to certain areas to have fun, San Francisco was so small and compact that everyone had a great time everywhere. When they FaceTimed Armie, showing off their big burritos and making sure to tell Euan goodnight, Chris could see the tiny wrinkles pulling at the corner of Armie's eyes. He looked tired.

"Congratulations, kiddo," Chris said to Euan. "I know you're staying up late to talk to me and Sebs, but it's time for bed."

"Good job, Euan," Sebastian chimed in. "I wish I could have been there to see. I'm happy for you."

"One more sleep," Euan said. "You'll be back tomorrow?"

"I'll be back in time for dinner," Chris said. "You and daddy pick whatever you want from the farmers' market and Sebs and I will be back to eat."

"You guys look cute," Armie said, the screen showing his face again. "Getting into trouble?"

"I don't know how," Chris said.

"You definitely do," Armie said. "I have pictures to prove it."

"That was a joke," Sebastian said. "You're lucky I like teasing you. And that this guy is a good kisser."

"So, yeah, good news all around. I heard you did great. Euan's jumped an age bracket, first time in AYSO Region 20 history."

"That kid is going to break my heart one day," Chris said. "And I blame you." He gestured toward Sebastian. "I blame you, too. He's growing up so fast. Let me enjoy him."

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," Armie said. "Be good. But if you're bad, take photos." 

***

It had been a while since Chris had spent time at Sebastian's house. Even though it was just a few blocks away, it was rare he did much more than just wait outside or go in to use the bathroom. But as soon as they landed, Chris got an urgent call from Armie. As much as he wanted to go home, give his husband a kiss, hug his kid, and sleep in his own bed, Armie told him to steer clear, at least until he could get things under control. Euan had somehow managed to get lice from either his classmates or a teammate and Armie had instituted an unofficial quarantine. He was combing Euan's hair, shampooing, and doing his best to make sure that this was an isolated incident. The last thing he wanted was for Chris to get lice, too. If everything went okay, Chris could come home after dinner. Armie just wanted to make sure he and Euan were shampooed, the house was vacuumed, and that all their clothes had gone through the laundry.

"You're stuck with me for a little longer," Chris said. "Sorry again."

"Stop apologizing," Sebastian said. "What's a few more hours after two days?"

"Do you mind if I take a shower? I hate grimy airplane air," Chris said as he rifled through his duffle bag. If he could get into some clean clothes, maybe that would be enough.

"Of course," Sebastian said. "You know where everything is."

Clothes in hand, Chris headed upstairs, past Sebastian's gallery wall of black-and-white photos -- most of which he'd taken himself -- past one guest bedroom, and right into the second one. He tossed his clothes on the bed, which looked inviting right now, Chris had to admit, and made his way into the bathroom. 

"You need anything?" Sebastian asked from the door, hearing the water already running. The last thing he needed to take their playful flirting into a weird place would be to actually see Chris showering.

"No, I'm just going to be here until Armie comes to get me," Chris joked, feeling himself relax under the almost-too-hot spray. Sebastian's bathroom was stocked with eucalyptus-scented soap, which had Chris feeling that much better.

"Okay, I'm going to be downstairs, let me know if you need anything."

While he could have spent the whole afternoon in Sebastian's shower, Chris was only under the spray for a good 10 minutes before he was bounding back downstairs and settling in on the sofa. Sebastian was milling around, looking through his actual mail and checking his email before sitting next to Chris. "Lice isn't a big deal. All you have to do is use a special shampoo."

"I'm not worried," Chris said, stretching. "Armie just likes blowing things out of proportion. I want to go home, but he'll freak out even more if I head over there after he told me to stay away."

"Should we order in? I don't have any groceries."

"Anything's fine. I could use a nap."

"You just had one on the plane," Sebastian said.

"That was like 20 minutes, max," Chris said, chuckling. He rested his head on Sebastian's shoulder. After the whirlwind, crisscrossing tour of San Fran, Chris was finally ready to soak in exactly what had happened. He'd spoken to over 2,000 people at the Orpheum Theater, shown his best friend around one of his favorite cities, had more coffee than a human should consume, and managed to get Armie to send him a dick pic. But he missed his son and tiny bugs were keeping them apart. What a way to kill his buzz.

Chris sent Armie a message saying that he was ready to head over, but Armie said that he and Euan would walk over when they were ready for him. Chris let out a long breath looked over at Sebastian, who was on his phone, too. His dark hair, his light eyes, so much of him reminded Chris of Jake, except the whole divorce thing. Except that Chris hadn't spent a huge chunk of his life head over heels in love with Sebastian. Minor details. 

"Homesick?" Sebastian asked, his eyes not even moving from his phone. 

"Something like that," Chris said. "Miss my boys. Feels weird that I can't see them."

"All you've got is me, sorry."

"I guess we can't leave now," Chris said, half relieved that the decision was made for him. After thinking about it for so long, having a resolution felt like a huge responsibility had been taken away from him. Euan made the choice himself, almost. If anything, he convinced his dads that staying in L.A. would be good for them, at least when it came to the community they'd found themselves in. Not only because of work, but with the other families, too. "He made it onto the team. I can't take that away from him."

"You're not exactly stuck. L.A.'s not that bad," Sebastian said. "People dream about coming here. People come here for their dreams. I was one of them. Armie was."

"Should we get a coffee?"

"I can make you one. What do you want?"

"Espresso. Double espresso."

"Espresso? At 5? How are you going to sleep?"

"Don't plan on doing much sleeping tonight," Chris said, grinning. Sebastian smacked his shoulder and shook his head.

"Gross," Sebastian said as he got up off the couch. Chris straightened up and checked his phone one more time. No word from Armie.

"Maybe we should order in. I don't think I'll be home anytime soon."

Just as Chris finished his thought and Sebastian handed him a tiny cup of espresso, the doorbell rang. "You have a doorbell?" Chris asked before taking a sip. The two of them headed towards the door, "I always text you when I'm outside. Who even uses a doorbell?"

"It's me and daddy," Chris heard from the other side of the door. He threw the shot back, feeling the heat all the way down his throat. He opened the door and was greeted with Euan's arms tossed around his legs.

"I missed you, kiddo," Chris said, rubbing the top of his head. Normally he'd kiss him right there, but Chris thought it best to maybe wait on that. He could smell the chemicals coming off of both Euan and Armie.

"Hey you," Armie said as he leaned in over Euan. Their lips met and Chris' hand came up to brush over Armie's jaw. "You taste like coffee." His voice was low soft and their eyes locked.

"The lice didn't get to your hiatus beard?" Chris asked, feeling the scratchy hair.

"I know what you like," Armie said. He came in for another kiss, getting his fill after being without. It felt great. It felt familiar.

"We're going to get Thai. Is that okay?" Sebastian asked, mostly at Euan. It was clear Chris and Armie were in their own world right now.

"Yes," Euan said. "We can go back to the house now. I go combed. Daddy combed his hair. All his hair."

"All your hair?" Chris asked.

"I'm a hairy guy," Armie said, laughing softly. "I wasn't going to take any chances."

"Can you wash your hands before we go?" Chris asked Euan.

"C'mon Euan, let's get you cleaned up," Sebastian said, leading him into the house.

Chris pulled Armie into a tight hug. "I missed you," he said, leaning up for another kiss. He felt Armie's hands run down his back, their foreheads pressed together. Chris melted into the embrace. It had only been a few days, but it felt like forever.

"I missed you, too," Chris said, his lips still brushing over Armie's. "I leave for a few days and there's a plague on our house?"

"It's fine now," Armie said. "We're all back together."

***

"I made you a very rich man," Greg said. He pulled his glasses off and set them down.

Chris looked around, at the sprawling back yard, the pool, the view of Downtown L.A. "I made you a very rich man," he said right back. Greg and Robbie lived up in the Hollywood Hills, in what could only be described as a mansion or a compound, depending on Chris' mood.

"You know what you're worth," Greg said, meeting Chris' eyes across the table. "I know David will fight to get you even more. But I don't know if the network can pay. TV isn't what it used to be, even a few years ago."

Chris bit his lip. It was exactly what David told him Greg would say. They'd shopped around another idea for a TV show, though it was more Greg urging Chris to give him a new, fresh idea that he could turn into a series. Chris had done it before. He'd offered up one of his books as a rough outline, stayed on as a story consultant for the show's entire run. He didn't want to tread familiar territory anymore, though. He knew the next logical step and whether or not Greg was on board with it would be up to him. It was true, though. TV was lucrative, especially since Chris didn't do much other than map out storylines for a soapy drama with an extremely attractive cast that had questionable acting skills. Audiences ate it up. Greg and Robbie always said that Chris made stars out of a group of nobodies.

"Take me to Netflix," Chris said. "They don't have a budget. I don't want to be on TV, anyway. I want more freedom. I know you do, too."

"Chris," Greg said, shaking his head slowly. "Don't believe everything you read in 'The Hollywood Reporter.' Warner Brothers can get you just as much."

"I want the respect," Chris shot back. "I don't want to make another show that people see as a guilty pleasure. If I give you something new, something that's not from a book that people have read, it'll be something new for me, for Netflix, for everyone."

It was a combination Greg knew would sell. He'd just signed a huge contract with Netflix to produce a few series. He needed to lock in a huge name like Chris to show them he had the right connections. A show on the CW was one thing. Chris was right about that. A Netflix series didn't just get the attention of the masses, it got the attention of critics, too. And as much as Chris said he didn't care about that, there was a kind of validation that came with critical acclaim.

"Is this even up to you? Isn't your agent in charge of this?"

"Probably," Chris said. "But I know what I want."

"Sure. Fine. I get it," Greg said, sitting back in his chair. "I'll see what I can do."

Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him. While it wasn't a full-on agreement, it was something. Take it one step at a time, he told himself. Greg wasn't usually a hard ass about things, but he had a reputation to maintain, too. His first project had to be better than good, it had to be great. Having Chris' name attached to it would help, but he knew that people out there either loved his work or hated it. It was a risk. Chris' pitch was a risk, too. He had a bunch of short stories that he wanted to make into individual episodes, not a series. But the cast could be the same, he said. Greg was hesitant. It could be too weird, it could be genius. It was what Chris did.

"How's Caleb doing? I know Euan misses playing with him," Chris said, satisfied that he'd planted the right ideas in Greg's mind.

"He's good," Greg said. "Really good."

"Sometimes he stays to watch Euan practice," Chris said. "It's sweet."

"They're great," Greg said. "Lucky to be friends. I think Euan really helped Caleb come out of his shell. Robbie thinks it'll be good for his game, too. But, to be honest, Euan's got the talent. Everyone can see it."

"Speak of the kiddo," Chris said, checking his watch. "I have to pick him up. Thanks for this meeting. It's always good to see the place."

"Armie's on set?"

"Yeah," Chris said. "He's home by six every day though. It's pretty incredible."

"When you're Armie Hammer, you get what you want."

"It's good for everyone," Chris explained. "The whole team has family to get back to. It's nice. Everyone likes it a lot. He said morale is very high."

"Sounds like a dream," Greg said, genuinely impressed. It was rare, almost unheard of for any production to be run so efficiently. "Let me walk you out."

Chris left feeling lighter, a little more hopeful. If he had Greg's support, he could feel a little bit more stable. He'd been hitting a little bit of a block, but he could see himself expanding on his short stories. "Nine More Stories" was good, David had said, but Chris was known for novels, not short stories. So, it was shelved. That was three years ago. Chris hadn't looked at them since. But when he found out that Greg had gotten a development deal, he looked at them again. They were good, good enough to polish and refine. David thought so, too, especially if the intention was to take the material straight to TV. Then, the book could come after, piggybacking on the success of the show. If there was success. Plan in place, Chris did his best to make it happen. It was exciting, but it made him nervous, too. Pitching a movie was something he'd done before. He knew the ropes. But TV was so different. Things changed on a whim. Executives shift, making networks fickle. It's why he left it alone until now. 

"Hi, these are for you," Chris said as he approached a group of parents gathered at one end of the parking lot. "I was cleaning up and they definitely helped. I lived by most of them, even though we ended up going off book." He handed over a stack of parenting books.

"Thank you." It was Euan's classroom aide. She was pregnant and Euan came home every day with a report on how big her stomach was getting. Every day, she made sure the kids got picked up by the right person, whether it was a nanny or a parent. Chris had met her a few times, but Armie was the one that usually built a rapport with Euan's teachers. Euan's nonstop storytelling on the commute home was Chris' usual method of familiarizing himself with everything that happened in the classroom. 

"I hope they help you," Chris said, signing his name on her clipboard as uniform-clad students came filing out of the classrooms.

Euan rushed over from his group of classmates as soon as he spotted his dad. Chris leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Hey, kiddo. Ready?"

"What's a social climber?"

"What?" Chris asked, kneeling down. "Where did you hear that?"

"Jefferson was telling everyone that his mom was talking about how you are a social climber."

"Okay, wow." Chris stood back up and looked around. Who was Jefferson? Who was his mom? He grabbed Euan's hand and made his way to the car. "It's not nice and it's not important. We can talk about it later with your dad, but don't listen to anything you hear from Jefferson's mom."

That was a first, Chris thought. He hadn't been accused of that since he started seeing Jake. He took a few deep breaths and focused on the drive home, making small talk with his son as he followed a familiar path, running mostly on instinct as he tried to figure out how to explain things. Maybe Euan would just forget about it. Chris usually let things like this roll of his back, but hearing it from his son was jarring, startling.

"Do you want a snack?" Chris asked as they pulled into the driveway. If he didn't bring it up, Euan would probably get distracted by Legos or doodling in his notebook. "We have green apples and the pink ones."

"Green, please," Euan said, heading straight for the kitchen to wash his hands and set down his backpack. Chris rinsed off a green apple for Euan and a pink one for himself and dried them off. He set Euan's on the counter and went for the patio doors, opening them all to let in some fresh air.

"Dad, there's someone at the door," Euan said. Chris didn't even hear the doorbell.

"Come get your apple. I'll be right there. Don't open the door."

Chris rushed to the front door to see who was there, opening it a tiny crack to find a delivery truck. "Christopher Hammer?"

"Yes," Chris said. "I'm not expecting anything."

"This is from Greg Berlanti. It's pretty big."

"What's going on?" Chris heard. Armie was walking towards the house. "I got home early but this truck is blocking the driveway," he said, pulling his sunglasses off. As soon as Euan heard his dad's voice, he came rushing out, a half-eaten apple in one hand and a dark blue hoodie hanging from his other arm. He'd only managed to get one sleeve on. Armie hugged him and they came up to the front door together.

"Can you sign, please?"

Chris scribbled his name down for the second time that day, even more confused. "Where do you want it?"

"Just inside, I guess," Chris said.

"Greg? Like Greg and Robbie?"

It was a trunk. Vintage. Old. Very old. Battered and worn, Chris and Armie could barely see the Louis Vuitton logos that covered it. Worn, tattered stickers were scattered across a few of the sides. Chris' eyes were wide as it got wheeled through the front door. "It's not heavy. Just big," the deliveryman assured him. "Card's inside."

Armie thanked him and shook his hand, since Chris seemed too awestruck to do anything but gawk.

Chris opened up the latches, which popped with a satisfying click. He pulled out the card, a plain note with the letters GB letter pressed at the top. Chris read it aloud. "Nothing can contain your creativity, but have fun filling this up. It's from 1912. Was supposed to go onto the Titanic, but it never made it. Sound familiar? Let's tell Nine More Stories."

"Congratulations," Armie said. "I knew you'd convince him."

"I don't believe it," Chris said, looking up from the card to see Armie and Euan, both of them smiling. "Where are we going to put it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter that is mostly smut -- a Valentine's Day gift from me to you. The things in this chapter do not really move the plot ahead in any meaningful way and will (probably) not affect the main story moving forward.
> 
> Written for a very special longtime reader, you know who you are.

Nancy Rosner is a functioning alcoholic. Alan McDermott is the twins' dad and he was pushy. Very pushy. Everyone's in love with Sebastian, but everyone's obsessed with Armie. The parents can tell Euan's something special, but none of them know what to say, especially since Chris was never the most outgoing person on the sidelines. Armie tried to keep everything that Sebastian and Chris warned him about in his head, but it was too much information, especially since this was just the third practice he'd lead. He gripped the clipboard like a lifeline, making sure to run the drills exactly like he saw them on YouTube. That part ended up being easy. The kids knew how to do everything. What was hard was making sure all the parents were satisfied. Armie realized it was a delicate balance of pushing the kids so that they felt like they were getting something out of practice and having the parents feel like their kid was getting enough attention. This was the age they were finally figuring things out and playing positions and, naturally, every kid -- Euan included -- wanted to be the star.

He treated Euan like all the other kids. That was his number-one priority. As he saw them all tiring out, satisfied smiles on their faces, he gave each one a high five and told them to practice one more penalty kick before getting a drink and heading home. The other volunteer, whose official title was assistant coach compared to Armie's co-head coach, would make sure everyone got home safely. 

"Good practice," Armie heard. He couldn't figure out who it was, but he shook hands anyway.

"I'm Luis's dad. George. Good to have you out here."

"Happy to be here," Armie said. "The kids look good. Their effort is there. They're eager."

"Nobody's as eager as Euan," George said. "We're all impressed that he jumped up an age group."

"We're proud of him," Armie said. "Chris and me. I'm sure you know Chris. He was at every game."

"Yeah, we didn't talk much, since the kids were playing at different times, but we crossed paths."

A few other dads came over, mostly to talk about plays and positions, hoping to get everyone placed in a specific spot in the next week or so. Robbie warned him about this, but Armie thought he was handling things pretty well. If anything, the two of them would be texting tonight just so Armie got everything in line.

Armie glanced over to the kids, who were talking amongst themselves, drinking water, and enjoying the requisite orange slices. Armie noticed Nancy Rosner drinking from a Thermos and he wondered if she drove home or if her husband was the one behind the wheel. He hoped it was the latter. 

"How long have you guys been married?" one of the moms asked. She'd walked over from the snack table, a few bottles of water in her hands for everyone.

"Chris and me? A long time. I can't ever keep track."

"It gets that way," she said. "But it's different with you two. I can tell you guys are still in that honeymoon phase."

"We're definitely past that," Armie said, chuckling. He made sure to keep an eye on Euan, who was helping to break down the goals and put everything away. Budding superstar or not, he knew he had to help out. "It's been a long, long time."

"But you're always touching him," she said, leaning in closer. "My husband and I...we lost that spark after the first kid. Now that we have two, it's even harder."

Armie did his best to hold in a cringe. Was this really what the parents all talked about? "When you look like you do, it's not surprising Chris looks at you the way he does."

"We manage," Armie said. "It's tougher now, but things work out."

"She's a wild one," George said as she moved to talk to another group of parents.

"No kidding," Armie said. "I didn't think we talked about our sex lives on the pitch." He sent Chris a quick message saying that they were finished and that they'd be on their way home soon.

"A lot of people noticed you and Chris though, she's not wrong."

"We're just like everyone else."

"You're not. Trust me. You're probably not overworked, too tired to think about even kissing your partner because you've got three schedules to juggle. Chris is always calm and cool."

"Yeah, but I'm not," Armie said. "We balance each other out."

"It's good to hear not every couple's on the verge of a breakdown," he joked. "Set a good example for the rest of us, please."

"We're not perfect," Armie assured him. "Not even close."

"You look perfect. In more ways than one," George added. "It easy to see."

Euan finally made his way over to his dad. He looked worn out, but he was still smiling. "You did good, Euan."

"You did good, too."

"We'll see you next time," George said. "Go on with your amazing, exciting life while the rest of us drown in boredom."

"See you Thursday," Armie said, grinning. As he held Euan's hand and headed for the car, he hoped that George was right. He didn't feel like they were boring, but maybe it was because he'd gotten complacent. If other people were looking at his life and saying that it was amazing, why did it feel like he was just living? Maybe the spark was dimming, after all. 

"Did you get those plays or was it too complicated?" Armie asked.

"It was fun," Euan said. "I like when we do new things like that. It's boring sometimes when we just run and practice crosses."

"You have to know all the basics before you can add your flair," Armie said. "No bicycle kicks, no scorpion kicks, no tackling, and definitely nothing crazy until you're older, okay? I know you're watching those videos on the iPad."

"I wish we did things from YouTube," Euan said, opening the car door and tossing his bag in the back seat before sliding in himself.

"When you go pro, there'll be plenty of time for doing the cool stuff, but you're still learning. Just like I'm still learning how to coach."

Armie waved at the other parents before he got in the front. Was this what they meant by boring? For now, he'd take it. He was proud to be a coach, proud that this kid was the one on the field giving it everything he had, and proud that he was going home to his husband. 

"Should we get some cookies for dad on the way home?" Armie asked, glancing over his shoulder. Euan was waving to his teammates, a huge smile on his face. Yes, Armie thought. He could get used to this.

***

Armie settled in against the headboard, knowing full well that Chris hated it when he sat on top of the bed when it was made. He took a long, slow sip of scotch and watched intently as Chris got dressed, completely oblivious as he used the full-length mirror. Even though Armie told him over and over again that he was one of the most handsome men he'd ever met, Chris either ignored him or let his humility cloud what he saw in the mirror. Armie's eyes traced over the graceful lines of Chris' back, his broad shoulders, and the tight, compact muscles of his body. He looked like someone who ran almost every single morning. No bulky muscles, just lean limbs and smooth skin. Armie grinned as Chris ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and smoothing the sides. He worked to button up his white shirt -- always white for red carpet events -- and then turned to face Armie.

"Hi, there," Armie said, crossing his ankles. He'd already gotten ready while Chris explained every detail of Euan's nighttime routine to Nick.

"Bow tie or long tie?" Chris asked. He couldn't stop his cheeks from blushing. Armie had that effect on him, especially when he was eyeing him up and down.

"How much time do we have before you put your pants on?" Armie asked, one eyebrow raised.

"About a minute. We don't have time for me to straddle you," Chris said, reaching for the bow tie he'd laid out earlier. "Or for me to ride you nice and slow like I know you like it. You should have thought about that if you wanted me to grind down on your dick."

"Stop," Armie said, already feeling his dick throb. The blood was rushing south and Chris was right. They didn't have much time before the car service arrived.

"You started it, not me," Chris said, tying the bow tie with practiced ease. He'd done it hundreds of times by now, both on himself and on Armie. Knowing that Armie was watching, he slipped off his underwear and tossed it onto the bed. Armie took another sip and watched as Chris pulled his tuxedo pants on and stepped back into the walk-in closet to grab his shoes.

Armie felt a shudder run through his body. He threw back the rest of his scotch and set the glass down. "You're asking for me to ruin you when we get back," he said.

"Is that a promise?" Chris asked, bucking his belt. He motioned towards the end of the bed. "Looks good there, doesn't it?"

Armie pried his eyes off of Chris for a second to glance at the trunk, which Chris filled with extra blankets just so it wouldn't be empty. There was plenty of room for extra bedding in the walk-in. "I haven't bent you over it yet," Armie said, his voice low.

"And you're not going to," Chris said, coming over to give Armie a quick kiss. Armie tasted toothpaste. "It's an actual antique."

"We'll see," Armie said, groaning softly when he felt Chris' hand squeezing his dick through his pants. Armie's hand reached around to the back of Chris' head, careful not to mess up his hair, and pulled Chris in for a deeper kiss, their tongues sliding against each other, Chris' teeth gently nipping at Armie's lower lip, Chris' hand squeezing and stroking with a little more determination. "You smell so good," Armie said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Taste good."

"I think the car's here," Chris said, pulling away. "We have to say goodbye to Euan."

Armie watched as Chris grabbed his ivory tuxedo jacket and walked out of the room, presumably to head over to Euan's. Armie took a long, slow breath and followed, picking up his own jacket on the way. He came in to see Euan walking his dinosaur robot across his bedroom floor. The remote control didn't have a huge range, so he had to stay a few steps behind. It was great to see, though, especially knowing that he'd put it together all by himself.

"The new batteries worked," Euan said, looking up at his dad. It wasn't often he saw either one of them so dressed up. 

"Thanks for staying with him," Chris said, making sure his watch was set to the right time and his belt looked okay. "We shouldn't be back that late. Be good, okay, Euan?"

"He's always good," Nick said.

"Thanks again, Nicky," Armie said. He gave Euan a kiss on the forehead and Nick a pat on the shoulder. "We'll call you if we get any food on the way back."

"Double-double, extra cheese; chocolate shake; well-done fries," Chris said. "I know."

"Thanks," Nick said. "Have fun. You both look really great."

"We'll be back," Armie said. Chris gave Euan one last kiss on the head and they headed out to meet Sebastian in the car. Armie opened the door for Chris and walked around to get in on the other side. "If we keep showing up to things together, people are going to wonder."

"People already wonder," Chris said, clicking his seatbelt.

"We should do this more often," Sebastian said, pulling his sunglasses off. Chris glanced up at him in the rear-view mirror, taking in his perfectly groomed stubble and his new, shorter haircut.

"We did this last month," Chris reminded them. "You guys work too much."

Armie ran his hand over Chris' thigh as they pulled out. "You look so good," he said, leaning in close and letting his lips brush over Chris' ear.

"You've seen me in this a hundred times," Chris said, his hand grazing Armie's as it moved across his leg. It took everything in him to keep from getting hard and he regretted tossing his underwear on the bed. He thought it was funny at the time, but right now he wished he had something to keep things under control. Armie's hand came up to cup Chris' jaw, pulling him close for a kiss, his mouth desperate.

"Okay, you two," Sebastian said, embarrassed for himself and the driver. "Control yourselves."

They managed to, with Chris flushing as they made their way to the theater, Chris and Armie holding hands in the back seat. Sebastian got out first, waving to the fans and posing for a few selfies before heading down the carpet, where there was real work to be done. Armie followed and Chris was behind him, though they lingered with the fans a bit longer. It was Sebastian's night, not theirs.

Chris walked a few paces behind Armie, his usual M.O. It let him be at arm's length in case someone wanted a photo, but it also gave him enough space so that Armie could talk to the reporters and Chris could hang back. But as Chris took slow, even steps behind his husband, he heard his name over his shoulder and got pulled towards the scrum. Before he knew what was going on, he was giving an interview with the "New York Times."

"Congratulations on another bestseller."

"Thank you," Chris said, glancing at the crowd to see Armie posing against a step-and-repeat. "It's a great feeling."

The questions were pretty run-of-the-mill, asking about future projects -- Chris didn't have any that he could talk really about -- and then the usual questions about Armie and balancing being a dad with being in the spotlight. He'd heard and answered them all a million times before. But the reporter managed to dig a little deeper, reminding him that they'd been together for a long, long time.

"Marriage is hard," Chris said, just as Armie had backtracked to join him. "It's something that I work on every day. And it's hard work. Especially now that our son is growing up, I realize that so much of what we do is to protect him from so many things. We sincerely want him to grow up as normally as we can manage. He's got two dads, they're on magazines, but for him, it's all he knows. It's weird to think about that."

Armie grabbed Chris' hand, squeezing it as he spoke.

"I didn't think I'd ever be a dad, but now I don't think I could ever not be one. And we've explained to him that people write things and say things about us and it's just not true. He knows what we tell him is the real story. We're not hiding things from him, but he has to know that just because it's out there doesn't make it true."

Armie leaned in, kissing Chris' temple. The sound of cameras was almost deafening. His hand moved to Chris' lower back.

"Every day we get stronger," Armie said. "And we have a great support system, Sebastian is our son's godfather and they spend so much time together. It's amazing. We're proud of Sebs and tonight is about him and this movie, but we're happy to come out and support him."

"When did you get so eloquent?" Armie asked as they walked down the carpet.

"I manage," Chris said. They managed to catch up with Sebastian, who was definitely the man of the evening. By the time the three of them got inside, Armie snagged a drink for himself and pulled Chris over to a corner before kissing him, his mouth already desperate and hungry. Chris could taste the tiniest hint of scotch as they pulled apart.

"You don't know how amazing you are sometimes," Armie said. "And for what it's worth, this isn't hard work for me."

"I just meant it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine," Chris said.

"I know," Armie said, pulling Chris as close to him as possible. "I love you so much."

"How much have you had to drink?" Chris asked. Stepping away from the crowd wasn't Armie's usual party routine. He loved mingling.

"Three? One at home, this is my second one here," Armie said. He always did get handsy after a few. "I want to get you home."

"We've only been here 20 minutes," Chris said. "I haven't even congratulated Sebs yet."

Chris led Armie back into the crowd, though the theater was small enough that it meant just taking a few steps back into the lobby. Sebastian was still taking photos, but he caught Chris' eyes through the crowd and managed to step towards them. Chris had a glass of water ready for him.

"You're the best," Sebastian said. "I know we were supposed to get In-n-Out, but there's actually a sit-down dinner down the street. You guys are on the list."

"I'm on every list," Armie clarified, grinning.

"Enough of that," Chris said, nudging Armie's ribs with his elbow.

"Right, big guy," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. "The car's coming in 15 minutes. Sorry, it's a 'GQ' thing. Cover and all."

"Are you going to sign a copy for me?" Chris asked. He was already sending Nick a message, letting him know their plans had changed. Maybe they'd still be able to get him a burger on the way back to the house.

"It's at the Chateau," Sebastian said. "You guys might remember that place."

"Don't be a smartass," Chris said, sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket. They didn't need to be reminded that it's where they met, where they'd first made out, and where they'd almost fallen into a one-night stand instead of an actual relationship.

"I love that place," Armie said. He leaned down and kissed Chris' cheek.

Back in the car, Chris felt like he was experiencing some sort of glamorous Hollywood whiplash. They were in and out of the premiere before he even realized it and now they were walking up to the Chateau Marmont, dressed in their best tuxedos, and Armie's hand was tucked in Chris' back pocket. As uncivilized as he felt with Armie's hands all over him, the dinner went smoothly. Chris was glad to have some actual food and both Armie and Sebastian were grateful for the wine and the cognac that came at the end of the meal. Chris sat back, watching the two of them unwind. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Armie really let loose and as unfamiliar as seemed, it was something he had stashed away in the recesses of his memory. Was it really that long ago? Did they get boring as soon as Euan came into their lives?

"Remember when you were in the murder bungalow?" Armie asked, nuzzling Chris' neck. The crowd was dissipating, but the three of them were still at the table. 

"I wasn't. You told me that."

"Wait, so it's true that you guys hooked up here?" Sebastian asked.

"We didn't do anything," Chris said, stopping any speculation right then and there. "It was a very PG-13 situation. We kissed."

"I wanted to do more," Armie said. "Don't get me wrong. We should see if bungalow three is vacant."

"I was in bungalow one," Chris clarified. He ran his hand down Armie's chest and down his arm, grabbing his hand. "Let's get you guys out of here."

It wasn't exactly late, but for Chris and Armie, it was. It was very rare that they stayed out these days and Chris felt anxious thinking about Nick at home with Euan, even though he got messages saying that the kid was asleep and Nick was fine crashing on the couch. He'd ordered a pizza, there was no point in them even thinking about coming back earlier than they had to.

"Sebs, do you have the number for the car?"

He dug through his jacket pockets and pulled out a card, handing it over. He was unusually quiet, but Chris was too distracted by Armie's rambling and trying to call the driver to take notice. "Okay, he's on his way. We're going to Sebastian's."

Armie pushed Chris against the wall, kissing him deeply, his hands desperate to touch and feel. Chris' eyes shut and he felt himself growing hard, grinding against Armie and almost purring at the sudden stimulation. Armie was enveloping him as much as he could, his body towering over Chris, filling his field of vision, his mouth, even his ears with the slick sounds of their kissing and their heavy breathing. Armie felt a tap on his shoulder. 

"Car's here," Sebastian said, rubbing his face. Chris' lips looked swollen and pink, Sebastian noticed. His face was flushed and his previously perfect hair was starting to get messy from Armie's hands grabbing at the back of Chris' head.

Chris and Armie managed to keep things in control as they drove home, the usual traffic nonexistent at this hour. "Good turnout," Chris said. "Everyone looked like they had a great time. 'GQ' knows how to put on a party."

"Yeah," Sebastian said. "I'm not mad about it."

Armie was glancing at his phone, a grin on his face.

Chris reached up and gave Sebastian's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm proud of you. Always."

"Thanks," Sebastian said, genuinely. "That means a lot. What's he looking at?" He motioned over to Armie.

Chris glanced over, shaking his head. "You don't want to know."

"Kid's okay?"

"Don't worry about it," Chris said. "Enjoy your night."

The three of them stepped into Sebastian's house, Armie and Sebastian a little less buzzed, but still sporting matching goofy grins. Chris undid his bow tie and tossed his jacket over a chair before heading to the kitchen. He needed to get some water in these boys. He set two glasses on the counter, but before he even turned around, Armie's arms were wrapped around him, lips on the back of his neck. It was intense, heated. They'd teased each other all night and now Armie was ready, his libido taking over his common sense. His hands were all over Chris' chest, slipping between buttons to feel hot skin, hips rutting against Chris' ass just to get some stimulation.

Sebastian's gulps caught Chris' attention. He'd shed his jacket, too, and undone a few buttons on his own shirt. "You two done?"

Armie kissed at Chris' ear. "I want to see you two. In person. Not just a photo."

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked, a jolt going down his spine. He knew what Armie was asking. He just wanted to make sure. He wanted to hear the words.

"Sebastian. C'mon," Armie said. "I've jerked off to it so many times."

"Is this going to be weird?" Chris asked, kissing Armie's jaw.

"Only if you make it weird," Armie said, stepping back, hands up in mock surrender. Chris turned around, his butt against the kitchen island.

"Is this going to be weird?" Chris asked again, looking at Sebastian.

All he got was a shrug in return. Sebastian took a step closer and Armie nudged him one more step forward. Their lips came together, and Sebastian's hands came to rest on Chris' waist, his touch tentative and soft.

"God, yes," Armie hissed. He brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his knuckle, groaning as he watched Chris pull Sebastian closer, hands on his back, their tongues moving together. "Fuck, you guys. It's better than anything in my head."

Armie got behind Sebastian, his hands reaching around him to unbutton Chris' shirt. He moved in and Chris kissed him, Sebastian breathing hard, his head spinning. Chris shrugged his shirt off, feeling the chill of the marble countertop against his lower back, the heat of Sebastian's body all over his front. "Are we going too far?" Chris asked, his voice breathy and low.

"Shut up," Sebastian said, kissing Chris' neck. Armie's hands went lower, undoing Chris' belt. Chris watched as Armie kissed Sebastian's ear, licking and biting it softly. Their eyes locked as Armie's lips moved to Sebastian's jaw and cheek before he reached up and moved Sebastian's head, tilting it so that their lips met. Chris felt a shudder go through his whole body. The room felt hot, very hot.

"This is really happening," Chris said, realizing that he was completely naked, his pants pooled around his feet and his dick already rock-hard, and his counterparts were still fully dressed.

"You're so unfair," Sebastian said as he kissed Chris again. If Armie was encouraging him, he wasn't going to hold back. His hands were all over Chris' skin, tracing over his abs, reaching around to feel his ass. He'd seen Chris without a shirt on a hundred times, but he'd never touched. He looked over at Armie, meeting his gaze. He was a lucky man and he knew it.

"Chris," Armie said, his voice breaking through the sounds of kissing and heavy breathing. Chris glanced over again to see Armie rubbing himself through his pants, his eyes dark, half-lidded. "Do you want to?"

Chris nodded quickly. His knees felt weak and Armie's words went straight to his dick. He pushed Sebastian back and dropped to his knees, not caring that he fell hard against the hard tile of the kitchen floor. He fumbled with Sebastian's pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, vaguely aware that he was about to suck off his best friend. In the moment, it didn't seem to matter, especially as Sebastian's hard cock sprang into view. Chris licked at his shaft and head, sucking and slurping, exploring at first, getting to know the curve of the shaft, the ridge of the head. Sebastian gripped the kitchen counter above Chris' head, knuckles already white as he let out a string of expletives.

"Fuck, that's good," he said, looking over at Armie. Sebastian's eyes got big and he let out a low groan as Chris swallowed him down, holding the shaft deep in his throat. Armie bit his lip. Chris was using every trick he knew. Chris' hands traced the muscles of Sebastian's legs, moved up to his abs, and gently tugged at his balls as he bobbed on Sebastian's shaft. He gave a low hum and Sebastian shivered, his toes curling. Armie came closer, tossing his shirt over his shoulder and gripped Chris' hair, guiding him up and down Sebastian's dick, watching every inch slide in and out of Chris' lips.

"Chris, up here," Armie said. Chris groaned and looked up, watching as Armie and Sebastian kissed. He stopped for a second, stroking Sebastian's cock and catching his breath, almost whimpering as he watched them make out. He moved to Sebastian's balls, sucking and licking, shamelessly stroking his own dick with his other hand as he watched their tongues slide together.

"Fucking hot," Sebastian groaned. "We have to slow down." Chris swallowed him down and Sebastian wasn't sure if it was to contradict him or just to show that he could do it again. It was slick and hot, Chris' movements seemed magnified and even more intense with Armie being right there.

Armie slowly undid the buttons on Sebastian's shirt, pulling it off of him and tracing the lines of his pecs and abs. It was different, very different, from Chris. Hairier, rougher. He latched onto Sebastian's lips again, feeling the rough stubble against his lips. Everything was different. His thumbs ran over Sebastian's nipples and he felt him shake against his body.

"I'm going to shoot," Sebastian said, his hips moving quicker, his cock thrusting into Chris' mouth with more urgency. Chris choked slightly, but got back into his rhythm, lips tight on Sebastian's shaft as he moved. "Can I shoot on his face?"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Chris said, his voice shaky. He stroked Sebastian, thumb rubbing at the sensitive underside of his head, smearing precum across his slit. He went back to Sebastian's balls, licking at the skin as his hand moved slowly.

"I know you're there," Sebastian said. "Trust me."

Chris stood up on shaky legs, kissing Sebastian one more time, stroking their dicks together. It was easier with someone that wasn't so tall, Chris thought. He shuddered, bringing himself to the edge, his breathing stunted.

"I want you to fuck me," Chris said. "I really want you to fuck me."

"Yes," Armie said. "Yes, please. Fuck him."

"You guys are too much," Sebastian said, reaching up under Chris' balls. He slid three fingers in and Chris almost doubled over at the sudden intrusion. He grabbed at Sebastian's shoulders, steadying himself as he tried to breathe, willing himself to ignore the stretch and the burn.

"You're wet," Sebastian said, his eyes locking with Chris' and his brow furrowing.

"I was prepped..." he said, his entire body blushing. "Armie and I were..."

"God, you are too much," Armie said. He came over and kissed Chris hard, his fingers going down to join Sebastian's and feeling around Chris' hole. He didn't push inside, sensing that Chris was already struggling as Sebastian explored his hole, stretching and feeling for what he knew had to be in there. He pushed down hard on Chris' prostate and he let out a loud groan. "We were teasing each other all night. He slicked himself up because he wanted my dick so bad."

Chris whimpered against Sebastian's neck, his cock leaking a steady stream of precum. He was so on edge, he felt like he could shoot any second.

"We're not doing this in the kitchen," Sebastian said. He pulled his fingers out and Chris felt the breath get knocked out of his lungs. Sebastian didn't have the finesse that Armie did, that was certain. "Armie, lose those fucking pants. We're going upstairs."

Chris didn't know how they got upstairs, but he was on Sebastian's bed before he realized it, one leg hiked up onto Sebastian's shoulder and their eyes locked together. Chris wanted it. Both of them did. The short break was enough for them to regain their composure. Armie sat at the head of the bed, lazily stroking his cock as he watched Sebastian slide into his husband, the two of them never breaking their gaze, Chris wincing and stiffening as Sebastian worked his way in.

"Oh my god," Chris said, arching his back, his eyes shut tight. Sebastian buried himself in one long stroke, kissing and biting at Chris' neck. His eyes met Armie's for a split second before he bit and sucked, marking Chris' neck, grinding his cock in as deep as he could. It was hotter than anything he could remember and he swore he saw stars as he ran his hands over Chris' skin and pushed every last bit of himself in, burying himself to the root.

"You're huge," Sebastian said as he watched Armie stroke himself. Of course Armie had a big dick, Sebastian realized. Everything about him was big. He looked down at Chris, "You feel so good."

"You guys look amazing," Armie said. "I've imagined this so many times. It was never this hot." He watched Sebastian's shoulders and arms flex, watched Chris' body react to every movement. Armie stroked with steady motions, his eyes focused on Chris' leaking dick rubbing against Sebastian's abs. His chest and stomach were dusted with a light layer of dark hair, fine and sparse compared to Armie's. Chris grabbed at the sheets, struggling to keep his voice down as Sebastian raked over his prostate.

"You can go harder," Chris groaned, his hands gripping at Sebastian's forearms to steady himself, urging him on, squeezing around his dick.

"You're so tight," Sebastian said. He moved his hips faster, skin smacking skin as Chris' leg wrapped around him. "How? His dick is so big."

"Don't joke," Chris said. "I'm close."

"Already?" Armie asked. Chris was thankful for the reminder that he was there. The world was fading away and hearing him brought him right back. He felt Sebastian's hands on his chest, reaching for his dick and stroking it.

"No, no," Chris said. "You'll make me shoot."

"Isn't that the point?" Sebastian asked, his voice raspy. He pulled out, slower this time.

"Don't stop," Chris said, his voice frantic.

"Make up your mind," Sebastian said, a smile on his face. He kissed Chris hard, tongue deep in Chris' mouth as he sunk back inside. Chris gasped and Armie let out a soft chuckle, his free hand moving down to tug on his own balls. Armie groaned when he saw Chris shoot, his whole body flexing and his groans filling the room. Sebastian's eyes focused on Chris' face, the way his neck got tight and his whole body seemed to tense up around him. "Fuck that feels incredible," he said, watching Chris come down. He pumped in slow, jabbing hard at Chris' pulsing spot, knowing that he was pushing him even further, making Chris ride between the pleasure of getting off and the continued stimulation of his prostate. Sebastian's eyes jumped to watch Armie stroke. His cock looked so heavy and thick. 

"Ride him," Armie said.

"Is he directing us?" Sebastian asked, grinding his cock in. Chris whimpered, his arms coming up around Sebastian's neck, kissing him again. He couldn't get enough of the way Sebastian tasted, the newness of his body and how good they seemed to work together now that Sebastian was inside him.

Chris rolled them over and looked at Armie, mouth half-open and his own load cooling on his skin. "He feels so good," Chris said.

"You want him to shoot in you, baby?" Armie asked, leaning in closer, stroking Chris' cheek, his thumb brushing over his lips. Chris nodded, his breathing speeding up as he rode Sebastian harder. "You're doing so good. You look amazing."

"He calls you baby? That's new," Sebastian said. He sat up, chest to chest with Chris, and thrust his hips. Armie could see the bruises starting to bloom on Chris' throat, teeth marks on his shoulders. Chris rode hard and fast, taking every inch of Sebastian's leaking cock with every stroke. His eyes were shut and his forehead was furrowed, his expression determined. He wanted to get Sebastian off, even though his hole felt oversensitive and his legs were starting to get tired.

"I want you to cum in me," Chris whispered. 

Sebastian pumped up, his mouth still trailing over Chris' collarbones as he got closer and closer to his own orgasm. The hot, hot heat of Chris body seemed to intensify as Sebastian thrust up. He bit down as he shot, grunting and pulling Chris' body as tight to his as possible. His eyes shut tight and he swore he almost blacked out as his balls drew up and emptied into Chris, both of them quaking together.

Armie smiled, watching the two of them kiss, their bodies coming down, slowing, settling into a tangle of limbs and tongues. "Can I get some of that?"

"He can keep going?" Sebastian asked, looking at Armie through his long lashes.

"You have a lot to see," Armie said. He got up off the bed, his cock leaking more than he could ever remember. Chris rolled off of Sebastian and Armie got between his legs, kissing his swollen lips and running his hands over Chris' sweaty skin. "You can go more, can't you?"

"Anything," Chris said, pushing his hair back off his forehead. He looked up at the ceiling. "Sebastian came inside me." Saying it out loud and hearing the words confirmed it.

"Do you want me to cum inside you?" Armie asked. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me," Chris said.

Armie slid in, feeling a little bit filthy knowing that Sebastian had been in there just a few moments ago. Chris felt loose and open, pliable and eager to take everything in. Armie slid through Sebastian's load, stretching Chris open that much more. Sebastian was impressive in the dick department, but Armie felt a pang of satisfaction knowing Chris was feeling that familiar mix of pain and pleasure -- magnified after his own climax and Sebastian's continued fucking. Armie didn't hesitate, pushing in and pounding with hard, long thrusts. Sebastian watched Chris' face, eyes moving to Armie's body and groaning just seeing the way they moved together. He leaned over to kiss Chris again, the thought that this was definitely a one-time thing in the back of his head. He wanted to remember the taste, the sounds, everything.

"This is wild," Chris said, lips brushing Sebastian's, clamping his hole tight around Armie's dick. Armie grunted at the resistance and let out a low growl, pumping harder. He could feel the heat of Sebastian's cum around his cock and the sensation made him go deeper, fuck in with more power than he thought he could muster after edging himself for so long. He wanted Chris to feel it, feel more than what Sebastian had just given him. He nudged Sebastian out of the way and kissed Chris again, smothering him, enveloping him in every way he could.

Sebastian's dick got hard again just seeing Armie take Chris with so much strength and power. "Is he okay?" Sebastian asked, watching Chris take the deep fuck. His groans got louder and needier as Armie worked his hips.

"You talk a lot," Armie said, looking up. He rolled his hips and Sebastian let out a groan just seeing Chris' body tense and relax at the change in pace. They were so in tune with each other that Sebastian wished he hadn't said anything at all. He stroked himself, not realizing that his dick barely went soft after he shot. "He can take it."

Sebastian pulled Armie up and kissed him, feeling his scratchy beard and groaning as Chris swallowed his cock again. It was intense for all of them, with Armie barreling towards orgasm after holding off for so long. Seeing Chris eager for more and so hungry to get every possible inch of Sebastian inside him again spurred him on, gave him more drive to slam deep and fast. Armie knew all the spots, knew just how to fuck to push Chris over, when to slow down to draw it out, and which angles sent whimpers spilling from Chris' throat. Sebastian fucked into Chris' mouth as he watched Armie breathe harder and harder. Suddenly, he felt Chris freeze under him and watched in awe as another orgasm ripped through him, his body seizing and his dick erupting as Armie slammed in. Armie grabbed onto Sebastian's shoulder to steady himself and came right after, his cock filling Chris' hole with one more white-hot load.

Sebastian slid his cock out of Chris' mouth and stroked himself, letting Chris come down from his orgasm without the struggle to breathe hindering him. Chris' tongue darted out, tracing along Sebastian's leaking slit as he did his best to get him off one more time. Armie straightened up and gave a few more thrusts into Chris' ass, just to hear him groan one last time. 

"Are you going to mark him there, too?" Armie asked, his voice heavy and husky. Sebastian nodded, stroking faster, squeezing harder on his pulsing shaft, twisting his wrist at the head, knowing better than anyone how to make himself cum. "Do it. Paint his face."

Chris gasped at one particularly hard thrust from Armie and Sebastian lost it, just knowing that Armie was still hard. He sprayed Chris' face with ropes of cum, straining to keep his groans from getting too loud. Chris leaned up to suck his head clean as Armie bent down to lick and suck up Sebastian's load. He kissed Chris, feeding him as much as he could as Sebastian collapsed backwards onto his own bed. The three of them stayed quiet and still, the weight of the situation fluttering in and out of their minds. Armie was the first to get up, making his way to his feet as he surveyed the scene. Chris looked exhausted, his eyes barely open and his chest, neck, shoulders, and collarbones bruised with hickeys and bites, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat and cum. Sebastian looked exhausted as he leaned back on the bed, his brain trying is best to process what had happened.

"That's my side of the bed," Chris said, half-motioning to where Sebastian had settled. His mind was still hazy. 

"This isn't your bed, Chris," Armie said softly. He made his way to the bathroom to gather some supplies, tossing a towel to Chris as he came back into the bedroom. He wiped himself off, watching the two of them on the bed. "We should get home. Nothing personal, Seb."

"Just give me a minute," Sebastian said, stretching his arms over his head and rubbing his face. He moved over to where Chris was, running a hand up his abs and chest one more time. "You good?"

Chris gave him a soft kiss, stroking his hair and smiling through hazy, post-sex rush. "I'm a mess."

"You look so fucking hot I can't even tell you," Sebastian said.

"We have to walk home and my legs don't work," Chris said, looking up at Armie.

"You'll manage," Armie said, pulling Chris to his feet. If anyone ever called him boring, he'd remember this. When he felt like his life was nothing but clipboards, whistles, and sweaty kids, he'd remember that he had the sexiest husband on the sidelines. But right now, he needed his own bed and to make sure Chris knew that he was the only guy in the world that mattered.

***

"I didn't think you'd be up for a run," Chris said as Sebastian made his way to the kitchen. "Armie's got a headache."

"I need to sweat it out," Sebastian said.

"You sweat plenty last night," Chris said. He felt the same, even though he was stone-cold sober. He didn't know where his head went during that tangle of limbs and lips, he must have contracted some sort of contact high being around the two of them.

"Yeah, but really. It's more than that. You know how it helps us clear our heads."

"I'll get changed. Give me one minute."

Chris gave Euan a high-five as they passed each other on the stairs. "Good morning, dad," Euan said.

"Good morning," Chris said. "Ready for your game today?"

"I'm going to practice right now."

"Take it easy," Chris said. "Coach says it's as much in your head as it is in your feet."

"Coach is still sleeping."

"He'll be down in a minute, I promise."

Chris made his way to the bedroom, where Armie was still splayed out on the bed, ignoring their tuxedos in heaps on the floor. Chris rubbed his forearm, "I'm going for a run. Can you keep an eye on Euan?"

"Yes," Armie said, not moving.

"There's coffee downstairs."

"Thank you. Love you." Armie said before he rolled over, watching Chris get changed. His chest was marked with bruises, his neck a splotchy mess of purple and red. "Shit, Chris. You okay?"

"I'm fine." He pulled a black T-shirt on, covering up most of the evidence, but leaving his neck on full display. "Can't do much about it right now. I'll wear a scarf to the game."

"Turtleneck," Armie said. "You look smokin' in that black turtleneck." Armie's eyes scanned every inch of Chris' body as he changed. "Those running tights. They're so sexy."

"You're lucky I can even get them on," Chris said. "I'm sore everywhere."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Armie asked, sitting up.

"Don't worry about it," Chris said, coming over to kiss him. "Just have to make sure I didn't lose my best friend after last night. He has a girlfriend, remember?"

Armie shrugged. "I can't keep up with them," he said.

"Euan's waiting for you downstairs," Chris said. "I'll be back."

Armie pulled on a pair of boxers and followed Chris downstairs, giving Sebastian a quick hello before he and Chris took off. Just like Chris promised, there was coffee waiting for him and he grabbed a mug before heading out to the front to watch Euan kicking his ball.

"Don't wear yourself out," Armie said. "You haven't even had breakfast."

Nick came out to join Armie on the driveway, coffee in his hand, too. "Thanks for last night," Armie said. "Party went on longer than we thought."

"He's a good kid, I'll watch him anytime," Nick offered.

"Appreciate it," Armie said. "And we won't put you on the spot like that again. I'm really sorry about that"

"I didn't have any plans," Nick said. "Probably would have stayed the night either way. You know you have marks all over your back, right? You might want to put a shirt on."

"Shit," Armie said, not realizing that he might have gotten a few marks of his own. "Euan, just a few more minutes, okay? You've got to run drills before the game later, remember?"

"Things going good then, I assume? No seven-year itch?"

"We're fine," Armie said. "And it hasn't been seven years."

Armie helped Euan push the goal back into the garage before leading him inside the house. "Good job," Armie said, giving Euan's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's get you fueled up and by the time your dad's back, we can get ready to head out."

"We're going to win today," Euan said confidently. "Is Nicky coming, too?"

"I wish I could, bud. I've got to show a house today. Convince your dads that this place is too small for you and I'll be able to see more of your games."

"Don't listen to him," Armie said. "Your Uncle Nick has to work on Saturdays, it's part of his job."

"Your daddy sends me videos," Nick assured him as they all settled down around the kitchen island. Armie pulled English muffins out of the cupboard and got everything else ready as Euan pulled them apart. "Are there pictures from the party up yet?"

"I haven't checked. I was knocked out and I've got a headache," Armie said. "We went pretty hard last night."

Nick rolled his eyes. The marks he saw on Chris' neck were evidence enough of just how hard things seemed to have gone. "Do we need to talk about anything?" Nick asked, his voice quiet. "Are you and Chris into some hardcore stuff I should know about? Chains? Whips?"

"It's nothing like that," Armie said. Euan was oblivious, thankfully. He'd occupied himself with separating slices of cheddar cheese. "Things just got heated last night. Nothing like that."

"Can you put the bread in the toaster?" Nick asked Euan. "Do you know how to do that?"

"I do," Euan said matter-of-factly. 

"Thanks, kid," Nick said, smiling. Armie was at the stove, frying up eggs, his back on full display to Nick. There were bruises, but they were light. Chris must have killer grip strength, Nick thought. There was some commotion at the front door and Nick watched as Sebastian and Chris made their way into the kitchen, a sheen of sweat on both of their bodies, accentuating the muscles of Chris' and Sebastian's arms. 

"Hey, everyone," Sebastian said. He gave Euan a quick kiss on the top of his head as he held down his post at the toaster.

"Morning," Chris said, making a beeline to Armie and kissing him. "You want to put a shirt on, maybe? We've got guests."

"I can handle the eggs and bacon," Nick said. "Why don't you protect all that lush chest hair from possible deforestation?"

"Alright, alright," Armie said. He handed his spatula over to Nick and went upstairs.

"How was it out there?" Nick asked as Sebastian settled down at the counter. Chris was helping Euan arrange the English muffins on plates, making sure that he wasn't burning himself or breakfast.

"Cold," Chris said. "Is there juice?"

"I drank it already," Euan said. "Daddy had the rest."

"There'll be leftover orange slices after the game," Armie said, returning to the kitchen with a shirt on.

"I'm going to have to take my sandwich to-go," Nick said. He reached between Chris and Euan to grab his toasted muffins. "I still need to get home before driving to Malibu for the showing. Chris, it's actually pretty close to your old place. Las Flores."

"Feels like a lifetime ago," Chris said, plating the muffins. It was a well-oiled machine. Euan marched from person to person, assembling his breakfast. In no time at all, they were around the island again. It was the quietest the house had been all morning now that their mouths were occupied with food. Nick rushed upstairs to grab his overnight bag and said his goodbyes before anyone was even halfway done.

"I'm excited to see your new kit, Euan," Sebastian said. "I applied to be the mascot, you know. They said they didn't actually need one, which I think is a missed opportunity."

"We should get a shark costume, right Euan?" Armie asked. "I can probably find one online."

"Don't be crazy," Euan said.

"Thanks for breakfast," Sebastian said, getting up to wash his hands. "I'll see you guys here before the game. I'll bring your jacket. Do you need help cleaning up?"

"We left my tux jacket at his house," Chris explained. "I can clean up. See you later."

"Do you need me to walk you out?" Armie asked.

"I can handle it."

"He has a key," Chris said.

"Since when?" Armie asked.

"Forever? Who do you think waters our plants when we're gone?"

***

"Hold on, let me take a picture," Armie said.

"No, I'll take it," Chris said. "You have to be in the picture, too."

"Dad we have to go," Euan said. He was so excited he was practically buzzing.

"Okay, okay," Chris said. "Stand together." Euan stood right in front of Armie, who was wearing an official AYSO coach's polo shirt tucked into his jeans. Euan had his brand-new kit on, which had an actual name, the Sharks, and his last name on the back. He finally had a number, too. He'd chosen 7. When Chris asked him why, he simply said that it was his favorite number. Chris snapped a few photos and showed Armie, who approved, even though he thought he looked like someone who worked in IT, not a cool dad with a superstar striker on the rise. He even had a coach's jacket to go with it. Chris was in a black turtleneck, to cover up any evidence of last night's indiscretions, and black jeans, making Euan wonder if his dad had clothes that weren't black.

"You look great," Sebastian said as he walked up. "Can I get a picture, too?"

"We have to go!" Euan said.

"I'll get one on the field, then," Sebastian said. "We can't be late."

"You want to sit up front?" Chris asked him.

"I'll sit with Euan," Sebastian said. "Is everything packed?"

"All set," Armie said. "Okay, Euan. We're rooting for you, but remember that this is for fun. We're not out there to win."

"I want to win," Euan said, strapping on his seatbelt. "It's fun to win. I know what we're supposed to say but nobody wants to lose."

"Please don't say that on the field," Chris said, trying to hold in a laugh. "Go out there and have fun. Winning is just a bonus."

"Okay, I won't say anything," Euan said.

"Being competitive is fine," Armie said. "But it is just for fun. If it stops being fun, let us know. "

"It's the most fun I ever have," Euan assured them.

"That's fine," Chris said. "But if you ever stop feeling that way, don't keep it inside. Just because your dad is the coach doesn't mean you have to keep going."

Half an hour later, Chris and Sebastian were at their usual spot on the sidelines, a few yards away from the other parents. Armie was on the other side of the field, eyes focused and intense. This is exactly what he'd hoped for. After last night, he needed everything to be normal and this was as normal as it got. It was like any other Saturday. Sebastian put his arm around Chris' shoulder. Realistically, he knew things had changed, but if Sebastian could pretend nothing had happened, he'd do the same.

"He's a star," he said. "And I know I'm just his godfather, his cool uncle, whatever I am, but I am so proud of him."

"You're more to him, to me, than any of those things. You're a hero to him, even when you're not in a superhero movie."

"It's because I know more about soccer than you and Armie."

"No dad is perfect," Chris said.

"Watch, watch," Sebastian said, his voice getting louder. Chris' eyes focused on the field and he saw Euan smash a ball right into the goal. It was perfect, from start to finish: a throw-in, a quick one-two touch, a pass, a cross, and Euan was right there, right where his daddy told him to be, where they'd practiced so many times, and he kicked the ball right in, right over the goalie. Chris and Sebastian cheered so loud that Chris even surprised himself and Euan threw his arms up, pumping his fists in the air. 

Chris hugged Sebastian and the two of them jumped up and down, Armie shaking his head at the over-the-top display, but so proud that he could cry. It wasn't his first goal, but it was the first one on his new team, where he came in as an underdog and fought to impress everyone from day one. Chris wanted to rush across the field to kiss Armie, but he held it in, it was against the rules for parents to rush the field.

"That's exactly what they practiced," Sebastian said, his eyes as big as his smile.

"That's what practice is for, right?" Chris asked, still feeling the electric high from Euan's goal.

"You'll have to ask Coach Hammer," Sebastian said. "This kid is going to get a huge head. But you can't do anything about it if he has the skills to back it up."

Armie blew the whistle to settle everyone down and they regrouped to keep the game going. It was the redemption Euan had been looking for since last year, when he felt like he'd let everyone down and then let his temper get the best of him. This feeling, where he felt like he could outrun everyone, jump higher than anyone, and take on the entire world, this is what he wanted to feel all the time.

The rest of the game wasn't as eventful, but the Sharks were triumphant in the end. Chris did sneak a kiss in, congratulating Armie on his job as coach as much as he congratulated his son for his game-winning goal. 

"It was just like we did in practice," Euan explained, turning the ball between his hands as Armie filed the paperwork with the referees. "Dad makes us do it 10 or 15 times and it gets so boring, but it worked."

"You did so good, kiddo," Chris said. "I'm so proud of all your hard work." It made Armie smile just hearing it. His parents were never that encouraging, especially for things like sports. As much as Chris said he'd never thought about being a dad, he managed to do everything just right. "I'm going to pack up the water and we can get to celebrating."

"Are we going out with the team?"

"What do you want to do?" Armie asked. In the past, they'd generally celebrated on their own, but now that Euan was with a new group, they'd talked about going out with the team.

"We're going to get pizza," Nancy Rosner said over her shoulder. "Sometimes we get wild and get margaritas."

"I want to have pizza," Euan said. It was common knowledge to everyone involved that Euan always wanted pizza.

"We'll be there," Armie said. "No margaritas, but we'll be there."

"I'll send the address to you," Nancy said.

"Thanks," Chris said. "We'll see you there." 

Armie grabbed his hand and he stopped. "We'll see you at the car," Armie said to Euan and Sebastian. "Good job today, Euan. You did really good."

"You did good today, too, coach," Chris said, smiling. There were victories on every front.

"I noticed that you're not wearing your wedding ring," Armie said, keeping his voice low. He felt a knot in his stomach just hearing the words come out. "Nothing's changed. Last night was just a one-time thing."

"It's around my neck," Chris said. "It's not a big deal." It was a big deal, Armie thought. Chris hadn't ever done it.

"When did you get a chain for it?"

"I had one." 

Armie felt his fist clench.

"You know how we have to carry shit in?"

"What?"

"The coolers. The water. The ice. Orange slices. The canopy. The ring digs into my hand sometimes. It gets scratched up. Nothing's changed, except you thought they did."

Armie bit his lip. "I didn't mean it like that. It just threw me off."

Chris held Armie's hand to his chest. "Feel it?"

"Yes," Armie said, moving his hand up to give Chris' shoulder a squeeze.

"Nothing's changed for me," Chris said. "I'm married to you. I indulged in something last night that maybe shouldn't have happened, but Sebastian is cool with it and I'm pretty sure we'll just pretend it never happened."

"I know where that chain came from," Armie said. "We'll get you a new one."

Chris pulled his sunglasses off. "You think you know everything," he said. "It's not the chain you think it is. I got a new one, because I know you. You're territorial. You like everyone to know what's yours. It's why I have a turtleneck on at a soccer game."

"I get it," Armie said. "I overreacted."

"I'm not mad. Just think about what you're going to say. We tell that to Euan all the time."

"I'm sorry. I mean it."

"C'mon. We've got team-building to do."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	5. Chapter 5

Chris looked over the wall one more time, his journal open and his pen moving quickly across the paper. He wasn't sure people still worked this way, but if he had to outline nine separate episodes that were only barely related to one another, he needed a visual aid. The rest of the writing team, if anyone considered a total of three people a team, had already gone home. Chris was staying back just to make sure no details got left behind. He'd gone from Post-Its to a whiteboard and now just regular printer paper pinned to the wall of Greg's conference room. Berlanti Productions had a very fancy office, with ocean views and a prime Santa Monica address, but that stuff didn't impress Chris. It was nice, but at the end of the day, he wasn't going to be here much. As soon as the writing was done, he'd make himself scarce.

"The traffic's crazy right now," he said when he heard someone at the door. "I might as well stay."

"You can take pictures," Greg said, leaning against the doorframe.

"I can let myself out," Chris said, still writing in his notebook. "The doors lock automatically."

"And you have the code, I know. It's just..."

"You should get home to Robbie. You're the one with the long commute."

"We have dinner reservations out here on the West Side. I'm not going home."

Chris looked over his shoulder. "Please don't tell anyone how low-tech my creative process is," Chris said.

"Don't you have plans with your husband?"

Chris leaned back against the conference room table, his pen finally still. "Honestly, I don't remember," he said. "I've been so busy with this." He motioned up at the wall.

"You don't have to be. You have the clearest, most easy-to-understand storyboards I've ever seen. You just have a lot of ideas."

"I know, you just shut down a quarter of them."

"And you've still got a wall full of very good ideas," Greg said. "I trust you. You always say you've never missed a deadline."

"That was only to impress you," Chris said. "I've missed deadlines."

"Okay, well, the title of your 'limited series,'" Greg said, making air quotes as he spoke. "Got approved. They like it."

"One hurdle cleared," Chris said, his eyes wandering back to his wall. "This is very complex."

Greg ignored him. "'Sweet Dreams and Nightmares.' Should I be worried?"

"No," Chris said. "It was just supposed to be shocking and intriguing."

Chris grabbed his phone and started snapping photos, moving from paper to paper, making sure to get every single detail, just in case. This was going overboard, but if Greg was going to distract him, he needed a safety net.

"So, you and Armie...now that Euan's has his own schedule, it's tough to get time to yourself, right?"

"Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?" Chris asked. He'd had the same conversation with Robbie just a few days ago when they passed by each other at practice.

"Is that okay?" Greg asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Chris said. He and Greg weren't as close as he and Robbie were and that made things a little weird. Maybe just a little weird. Greg was older than Chris and they usually only talked about work, even if they were being social. Even that was rare. Greg was almost 15 years older than him. Plus, Greg was his boss right now. They were at work. Technically, this wasn't okay, but they were friends, too. Everything was blurred. 

"We manage. He knows to knock if our door is closed," Chris explained. He'd gone from mildly confused to full-on uncomfortable. "Sometimes, after my run and I get back from drop-off and Armie's at home, we...you know. We do it downstairs, after he goes to bed."

"I sit on that couch," Greg said. He took a few steps closer, leaning against the paper-covered wall. Chris could smell his cologne.

"You asked," Chris joked. "What's going on? Are you guys having trouble?"

"Caleb's rowdy at home. Robbie's horny when I'm not. Things aren't synching up."

"I'm no expert," Chris said, putting his phone back in his pocket and taking a step backward. Greg followed him, closing the distance, reaching out to grab at Chris' forearm. "I think maybe just talk to him?"

"It's easy to say I'll talk to him, but you know how that goes. Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?" 

'Why did everyone care so much about it?' Chris wondered, pulling his arm away. He never noticed anyone else's, though it seemed to be a huge deal whenever he took his off. He pulled it out from inside his shirt, dangling the chain so that Greg could see. "It's been on here since last weekend."

"Is that how you two are doing it now?" Greg pulled at the ring, bringing Chris' face closer to his and Chris stumbled back, trying to get some of his personal space back.

"It's nothing," Chris insisted, tucking it back into his shirt and doing up one more button than before.

"It's new."

"Sorry, back to this," Chris said, motioning to the wall. "We're not casting Armie. I want to stay away from that. That's important for this project."

"Yeah, that's not an issue," Greg said. "Can you not deflect? Do you ever feel like you're treading water? Like everything's a little too much of a struggle?"

Chris gave a weak smile, "Every couple is different. I don't really know what to say."

"Isn't that the truth? You guys look like the perfect couple from the outside and as far as I know, you're the perfect couple behind closed doors, too. Even your kid is perfect. I have a trophy husband, Chris. I thought Armie did, too."

"I'm not a trophy," Chris said, eyes narrowing.

"I know that now," Greg said. "We've worked together enough. Robbie...lacks ambition." 

"You just have to talk to Robbie. Get on the same page with things." He pulled as many papers as he could off the wall and packed up his things, rushing through everything to get out as quickly as he could. "I'm not the right person to talk to for this. I'm sorry."

"Have a good weekend," Greg said, avoiding Chris' eyeline. "See you Saturday."

***

Euan sat at the kitchen island, working on his math worksheets as his daddy chopped vegetables on the other side. It was the usual after-school routine, but his dad was nowhere to be found. It was weird when he worked outside of the house, because Euan was so used to having Chris around all the time, even if he was upstairs.

"You want some water?" Armie asked.

"No, thank you," Euan said. "When is dad getting home?"

"He's on his way," Armie explained. "He was with Caleb's dad."

"Caleb told me that his dads yell," Caleb said, setting down his pencil. "I told him that you and dad don't yell."

"Sometimes people get mad and they feel like they need to get loud," Armie said. The fried rice he was making for dinner could wait. "But it's not a good idea. Especially if Caleb is hearing it."

"You yell at us when we play," Euan said.

"That's different. I have to get loud so that you guys can hear me outside. The yelling Caleb is talking about is a different kind." Chris couldn't get home soon enough. "Are you done with that math?"

Euan went back to his homework and Armie went back to prepping their dinner. Robbie and Greg had always seemed amazing, he thought. They were consummate gentlemen and supported each other all the time. If anything, he always figured that they looked at him and Chris as the dads that were always on the verge of messing things up. But as he glanced at Euan, who was diligently doing addition and subtraction, he knew that they were doing one thing very right.

"Dad's home," Euan said when he heard the front door open. He scrambled off of his stool and met Chris halfway, hugging him when they met near the kitchen door.

"Hey, kiddo," Chris said. "I'm so, so happy to see you." Euan immediately started talking about his day at school, recounting everything that he'd already told Armie as they made their way back to the kitchen. Chris kissed Armie as soon as he could and Euan was back to his homework in no time at all. Chris set his bag down on the stool next to Euan and Armie noticed the papers right away, tossed in haphazardly, the pages sticking up in every direction.

"Rough day?"

"Not exactly," Chris said. "Things are going. Good direction, plenty of room for improvement. I'm going to work on it a little more."

Euan listened intently, but didn't take his pencil off his worksheets. He'd asked before about the show, but like most things, his dads' projects weren't for kids. The only thing he'd seen his daddy in was "Cars 3" and even then, it was only his voice. He'd never even gotten the chance to read any of Chris' books. They were all big, had no pictures, and his dads both said he'd get to read them when he was older. He knew that his dad was working with Caleb's dad and that they'd worked together before, but he didn't know whether or not to tell Chris what he'd just told Armie.

"Are you hungry?" Armie asked.

"Starving," Chris said. "You shouldn't have waited for me."

"It'll be quick," Armie said. "Euan was just talking about Greg."

"Greg was getting really weird," Chris said. "I was getting some bad vibes from him, I don't know exactly what's going on with him."

"Caleb's dads are fighting," Euan said, matter-of-factly.

"Okay...wow," Chris said. "I'm going to go upstairs and change. I'll be down in a sec. And, by the way, David called. All the books are going to get 'Hammer' on them now. No more confusion. Christopher Hammer, from my first book until forever."

"Forever?" Armie asked.

"Well, not the out-of-print ones," Chris said, coming back to wrap his arms around Armie. He gave him one more kiss, grateful for everything in that moment, for the stability and support. The commitment, not only to him, but to the little family that they'd become. "I love you so much," he said softly.

"Took long enough," Armie said.

"Sorry," Chris said. "I don't handle that."

A few minutes later, Chris was back and wearing black gym shorts and a worn, grey AYSO T-shirt. Armie handed him a bowl of fried rice and he sat next to Euan. Chris was still trying to process what had happened in Greg's office and he sat quietly, listening to Armie and Euan talk about math homework and the plays they'd be working on this week at practice.

"Something happened today with Greg. It wasn't like a full-on incident," Chris said, his words measured. "But it reminded me of something that happened to me in college. It wasn't okay."

"What do you mean?" Armie asked. He was standing across from the two of them.

"He was being intrusive," Chris said. "And it was creepy. I don't know. I might be making a big deal out of nothing."

Armie glanced at Euan. "It's not nothing if it made you feel...off."

"What did he say?" Euan asked.

"He was asking personal questions," Chris explained, making sure that Euan wouldn't misinterpret anything. "About me and your dad. It felt invasive more than aggressive."

Armie could feel heat rising in his body. He knew Chris brought it up with Euan in the room on purpose. Having that buffer meant nobody would overreact, but Armie felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Greg was someone that they trusted, someone that they actually owed a lot to. If he felt this way, he couldn't imagine what Chris was feeling. 

"We're going to talk through it," Armie said. He looked over at Euan, "Maybe don't talk to Caleb about this if you see him on Saturday."

"Did you guys finish the 'Jungle Book' last night?" Chris asked, making his way to the fridge for some water.

"One more chapter," Euan said as he finished up.

"We should read it all together," Armie said, knowing full well that there was no way all of them would fit on Euan's bed. The trundle pull-out was there for a reason and it wasn't for story time.

"That sounds like a great idea," Chris said, rubbing Euan's back and taking a long, slow sip of water. "I'm going to head up and sort through all these papers, but let me know when you guys start and I'll come in."

Chris finished just in time and the three of them did fit on the king-sized bed, where they finished the book together before Armie walked Euan back to his room, turning on the constellation light and making sure there were no stray dinosaur toys, robots, or Legos on the floor to step on the next morning. Euan kept his room tidy, but when he got engrossed in his toys, they got tossed around. When Armie made his way back to the bedroom, Chris was sitting out on the balcony, the cool -- almost too cold -- night air making its way through the open door. Armie came out took the seat across from him, looking out over the canal to see what Chris was focusing on, if anything.

He didn't have to be prompted. Chris told Armie everything as best as he could remember, from the proximity of their bodies to the way Greg seemed to get closer and closer and make himself feel bigger and bigger. It seemed normal enough at first, but given the circumstances, he couldn't shake the bad vibes.

"He didn't touch me. Not like that," Chris said. "It could have been all in my head. Is that bad? He's the one going through stuff."

"Stop," Armie said. "If you didn't feel right, something was wrong. It doesn't matter if he didn't touch you."

Chris took a long, slow breath. "Isn't it weird how we can barely see any of the stars? It's like the sky in Santa Barbara is so different."

"Do we need to call Dr. Dao tomorrow?"

Chris got up and settled in next to Armie, his body craving the comfort and familiarity. He felt himself relax a little, nuzzling against Armie's neck. "I don't know. I don't know anything right now," Chris said. Armie rubbed his shoulder and back, trying to be as reassuring as he could. "I have nine stories to polish up and send to the writing team. What did I get myself into?"

He hadn't felt this way in so long that he couldn't remember how he dealt with them, what his therapist had said back then. Did he even tell anyone? One person knew: Jake. The one person he couldn't call about this right now. "I'm going to email her, we'll see what she says, okay?"

"Yeah," Chris said. "I'm free tomorrow."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Armie asked, stroking Chris' hair, holding him even tighter.

"I'm going to get started on these revisions," Chris said. "I don't want to fall off my schedule."

"You can tell me anything," Armie said. "If you need to talk about it."

"Can I walk you through the first story? Do you mind? I have it down on some papers and in my notebook."

"I'd love that," Armie said.

***

The next morning, Chris ran harder and faster than he could remember. Sebastian struggled to keep up and their pace meant that they couldn't really talk, even when they rested halfway. They were both struggling to catch their breath, Chris leaning over one of the benches that lined the boardwalk, his eyes focused on the line between ocean and sky, his lungs burning, his leg tired. Chris re-tied his shoes, reaching down to grab at his ankles to feel the stretch in his hamstrings. They were only halfway done.

"Let's take it easier on the way back," Sebastian said as soon as he could.

Chris nodded, reaching out to give Sebastian's shoulder a squeeze. He steadied himself and the two of them prepared to do it all over again. Sebastian could tell something was up, there was no question about that. Chris was never the most talkative in the morning -- ever, really, unless it was just him and Armie or Euan -- but even this was odd. Sebastian knew better than to push, though. He figured things would happen organically, when Chris got some coffee into his system and they were both too tired to keep these boundaries up.

It took longer to get back than both of them expected, but because the first leg went by so quickly, they were back at their normal coffee spot earlier than usual. Sebastian wiped the sweat off his brow with the bottom of his shirt and Chris' settled into his seat, letting the sweet and bitter smell of his coffee waft up into his face, his hands wrapped around the mug. 

"In school, one of my professors took advantage of me," Chris said, keeping his voice quiet. No small talk. No pretense. Sebastian reached across the table, his fingertips brushing against Chris'. "And what Greg did to me yesterday wasn't that, but it feels the same. I might be making this bigger than it is."

"You know better than me," Sebastian said. "If this is making you feel...off, something's up."

Chris didn't want to say it, but it was too hard to hold in. He didn't want to admit it to Armie last night, or even to himself. "I don't want to lose this opportunity." He felt like he was going to cry. "I fought so hard for it. I had to pitch it to Greg and the Netflix people and I worked so hard and if I say anything, I might lose it all." His words were running into each other and Sebastian grabbed Chris' hand, squeezing it and doing his best to calm Chris down. Sebastian had worked with Greg before, but he hadn't experienced anything like this. 

"You don't owe him anything," Sebastian said. "I know you're loyal and all that, but this isn't okay."

"But nothing happened."

"You wouldn't be reacting like this if nothing happened."

Chris looked up at Sebastian, finally meeting his eyes. Beards and blue eyes. He certainly had a type, he thought. Sebastian's hair was shorter than usual, but his beard was more unkempt. Chris could see bits of grey in it.

"Is Armie home?" Sebastian didn't feel comfortable leaving Chris alone right now.

"He dropped Euan off at school. He should be home before we get back."

"What did he think?"

"It's complicated. The kids are friends. I like Robbie. I can't just drop Greg."

"It sounds like that's exactly what you have to do."

It wasn’t that easy. Chris thought about it all last night, while he was trying to sleep, trying to wrap himself up in Armie's limbs, doing his best to turn his brain off. There was a crew to think about. The writers, costume team, and lighting people. Their families. People depended on him. Even if he managed to get this project to a different studio, there was no guarantee that this group of people would come with him. It was more likely that they wouldn’t. It was early enough that a full cast and crew wasn't assembled yet. The faster Chris figured things out, the fewer people would get hurt.

"You'll figure it out," Sebastian said. "And if you need help, you know I'll be there. Armie will. I know it sounds selfish, but you have to do what feels right for you."

One cup each and they made their way back to the house, still working through the uncharacteristic quiet between them. Armie was and Chris went to him immediately, practically falling into his arms, burying his face in his chest.

"Hey to you, too," Armie said, hands running over Chris' back. He looked up at Sebastian, "We had a rough night."

"He told me," Sebastian said. 

"I can make you guys food," Armie said, pulling things out of the fridge. "Take it easy. Looks like you really pushed yourselves."

Chris kissed him softly. "I'm going to get my computer and we'll be out back."

"The computer can probably wait," Armie said. "Try to stop thinking about it."

"I can't make any promises about that," Chris said. He walked out to back, though, computer forgotten about for now. The more the thought about it, the less he could figure out. Maybe he could make it work. Maybe he could make it so that he and Greg never actually worked together when everything got going.

"I have a meeting before the parent-teacher conference," Armie said, settling down across from Chris and putting bagels and smoked salmon down. Chris grabbed one and sat back, his eyes still looking out across the canal. "I won't be late."

"I won't be late, either," Sebastian joked. 

"We have to be at the library after," Chris said, already feeling a little anxious about the day's schedule.

"And you have to go to the Writers Guild Awards tomorrow," Sebastian reminded him. "I have a new suit just for it."

"I don't," Chris said, looking over at Armie.

"You have a doctor's appointment today," Armie said. "Full day."

"Okay, fine, I get it," Chris said. He had plenty of stuff to keep his mind occupied. He finished up his bagel. "One more coffee and I'll get ready."

Chris always thought he'd be alone. Before everything happened, he was ready to live his life solo, holed up in Santa Barbara and surrounded by his grandparents' things. It was fine. Then, Jake came. Then, Jake left and even though Chris thought he'd gotten used to living a certain way, he was ready to retreat again. Now, with Armie and Euan, that wasn't possible. He knew that no matter what, there was no going back to that idea, however crazy it seemed now. Now, he had people who depended on him, that needed him for things that only he could provide. 

He tried to explain that to Dr. Dao, but that wasn't what they were supposed to be focusing on. Chris kept bringing it back, but they were there to talk about what he'd gone through in college and how it pertained to what happened with Greg. Dr. Dao wasn't there to offer professional advice. That's what David was for. Only every time Chris tried to contact him, he told Chris to wait. He was working as hard as he could to figure out a solution, but patience had to be exercised. The crew and their families had to wait, too, David explained. Chris didn't have to martyr himself just yet. Everyone in the business was used to things falling through. Nobody had to be a hero. Not yet. 

Chris pulled up to Euan's school with a few minutes to spare, enough time to put a blazer on over his t-shirt, toss his hoodie into the back seat, and look presentable. He didn't remember how often these things happened when he was younger, but Euan's expensive, fancy private school called for them every trimester. Not surprisingly, Chris usually sat back and let Armie make small talk, charm Euan's teacher, and sign up for volunteer hours. Chris kept his eyes trained on reports and test scores.

He felt an arm wrap around his waist and a kiss on his temple. "Right on time. How was your session?"

"Still don't know what to do," Chris said, holding Armie's hand as they walked inside. From the outside, Euan's school looked like a traditional parochial school, but inside, it was modern and sleek, full of technology and bright colors to foster creativity and expression. Dru chose it. She paid for it, too, so Chris and Armie didn't have much to say about it. Thankfully, Euan liked it. Robbie and Greg giving it their seal of approval convinced the two of them that it was fine. Chris and Armie were happy to piggyback on any of the research that they did. Hopefully, they'd scheduled Caleb's conference for a different day.

They walked into Euan's classroom together, where Euan was waiting for them with his teacher. "Mr. Hammer and Mr. Hammer," he said. "Please, take a seat." They both reached out to shake his hand before settling into the pair of chairs set up in front of the teacher's desk. Euan sat between them.

"I'm Mr. Bingham. I'm Euan's homeroom and English teacher. Last time, you met with his science and math teacher, Mrs. Chen. Next trimester, it's his social studies and Spanish."

"Mrs. Chen is cool," Euan said. "She has a pet ferret."

"Euan's reading levels are great, his comprehension is excellent, great test scores all around," Mr. Bingham said, glancing at his notes. Chris smiled and Armie was both proud and relieved. "No problems there. He could work on his behavior in the classroom. Talking when he's supposed to. Raising his hand."

Euan raised his hand. Chris looked over and Mr. Bingham nodded. "If I know the answer, why do I need to keep it to myself?"

"It's just how things are in the classroom," Mr. Bingham said. "Everyone needs to wait their turn."

"It's an only child thing," Chris said. "I know more about that than Armie."

"Is it something we could remedy?" Armie asked.

"Interruptions or Euan being an only child?" Chris asked.

"Back to the report," Mr. Bingham said. "Everyone likes having Euan around, he's helpful in class and eager to volunteer for positions of leadership. He loses focus sometimes when he's not being challenged, which isn't uncommon. We're glad to see that he has an outlet for the extra energy and all in all, the only thing we should work on is his impulse control, paying closer attention when he's getting instructions and."

"How do his math scores look?" Chris asked, not looking up from the papers he'd pulled off of Mr. Bingham's desk.

"Excellent. Academically, he's in a great place. Socially is where we should be working."

"He likes to be the center of attention," Armie said. "It's part of who he is."

Chris reached over and gave Euan's shoulder a squeeze. "This all looks great," he said. "Good job, kiddo. Really good."

Mr. Bingham straightened the papers on his desk. "Euan, can you tell us what you like the most about school? And then, the thing you like the least."

"I like math," Euan said. "I like that there's always a right answer and we don't have to explain anything. I like when we learn about space." He paused for a second. "I don't like spelling. I don't like reading comprehension."

"Figures," Chris said, rolling his eyes at the irony.

"I like the reading part," Euan clarified, looking up at his dad. "I don't like when we talk about it together."

"We read together every night," Armie explained. "We keep a very strict schedule."

"That's excellent," Mr. Bingham said. "Good news today is that we're all on the right track together. You all know what we need to work on, so next trimester, we'll see what Senora Castenada says."

"Yes, thank you," Armie said. "We'll work on it."

Mr. Bingham leaned back in his chair, "Congratulations, Euan. You and your dads survived. Just 20 minutes -- everyone thinks these conferences are the end of the world."

"It helps that Euan is so great," Armie said. He stood up and shook Mr. Bingham's hand one more time.

"Can I have Mr. Hammer, Christopher, I mean, stay back for a little?"

"Just me?"

"It's not anything major," Mr. Bingham said. "Nothing serious."

"We'll be outside," Armie said, reaching for Euan's hand. "Thank you for your time."

Chris sat up straight, taking a slow breath. He felt like he was in the hot seat now, even though just a few moments ago, Euan didn't seem to take issue with being in the same situation.

"First, wow. I am a huge fan. I've read everything, watched every movie. Just meeting you is an honor."

"Thank you," Chris said, relaxing. "That means a lot."

"You're an inspiration to so many people, including Euan. It's very clear to everyone that he's special. I'm sure you know that," Mr. Bingham said. "Your stories are so raw and real. I didn't want Euan to see me fanboy like this, but I had to let you know. Your books gave me a lot of courage. I've read that you've never compromised your ideas and even if that's a PR spin, it's just incredible. Thank you."

"You have no idea how that makes me feel," Chris said, standing up. He shook Mr. Bingham's hand one more time. "And it really is PR spin. I've had to polish up some ideas."

"Euan's a special kid, but part of that comes from having extraordinary parents. Know that. Thank you for your time."

Chris met Euan and Armie in the hall, smiling as he knelt down to get on level ground with Euan. "I'm so, so proud of you."

"Did my teacher tell you something bad about me?"

Chris shook his head and hugged him. "No, nothing like that." He leaned in close and rubbed his nose in Euan's hair. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not special, okay? You are important." His voice got quiet. "You are my whole heart."

***

Armie shut Euan's door and headed down the hall toward the master bedroom. The house was quiet, which meant Chris wasn't tapping at his keyboard in the office. He leaned against the doorframe when he saw Chris changing, pulling off his sweater before carefully folding it and tossing it on the chair by the balcony door. He tossed his t-shirt into the hamper in the walk-in before he caught sight of Armie.

"Why is it that you have no trouble talking in front of people when you tell everyone that you're shy and introverted?"

"I can talk about my own work no problem. I can read from my books," Chris said.

"How is that different from reading from a teleprompter?" Armie asked.

"You wouldn't get it," Chris said. "Like the kid you just put to sleep, you live to perform. You love attention. I'm very happy to be in the background."

"But you're not. You haven't been for a very long time." He walked over to Chris and kissed him, feeling his shoulders and arms.

"It's why we work," Chris said, pressing his forehead against Armie's shoulder. "Part of why we work."

"I see a lot of you in him," Armie said. "It's not just me. It's the obvious stuff that he gets from me. But he's so smart and he's thoughtful and creative and we both know that's all you."

Armie's hands ran down Chris' back, pressing them together, holding him so close that Chris could feel his heartbeat. 

"I have to tell you something," Chris said. "Something that happened a long time ago."

Armie pulled away, but kept his hands up on Chris' shoulders. As he moved them both towards their bed, Chris started the story, telling Armie what happened, the one thing that only Jake knew about, one of the only things that he hadn't ever put into his books. Never. He kept it locked away, even from himself.

Chris was laying on Armie's chest by the time he was done, no tears, but his heart was racing. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to get away from the entire thing for just a little bit. The day's activities might have been enough to keep his mind off of Greg, but now that he was home, everything came creeping back into his head. Telling Armie didn't help, there wasn't a huge cathartic moment. Instead, Armie had questions and even though Chris knew he was doing his best to keep them inside, to keep Chris from reliving any details, Chris could feel it. He didn't know if he wanted Armie to ask or not, but the silence was enough for now. Chris wasn't sure he wanted to answer.

"I need some air," Chris said. He hopped out of bed and Armie was watching him nearly bolt out of the bedroom before he could say anything. Armie went out to the balcony, leaning over the railing to see Chris down below him. He was sitting in his usual spot, knees pulled up to his chest. "I'm fine," Chris said, knowing exactly where Armie was.

"You're not fine," Armie said. "But you aren't broken. I can help. I want to."

"I can do this myself," Chris said. "I'll figure it out."

Chris looked up, waiting for an answer from Armie. Something. Anything. He got nothing.

"I know you can do it yourself," Armie said, appearing on the patio. "But you don't have to."

\---

Feedback: breaktingthroughstory@gmail.com


	6. Chapter 6

Chris watched Sebastian tapping at his phone. His hair was perfect. His beard was the perfect length. Even his eyes looked extra blue. "What are you looking at?" he asked, not looking up.

"You look very handsome tonight," Chris said. "That's all."

Sebastian smiled, shaking his head a little. Chris was a wordsmith. He had the entire English language to say what he needed to say, but it was the simplest, most straightforward things that got to Sebastian. No flourishes or big words. That's when he knew Chris was being completely sincere.

"Thank you," Sebastian said. "For someone getting a big award, you seem very nervous."

"I was talking to lawyers all morning," Chris said. "I am nervous. I'm also handing out a big award, so there's that."

"It's not the first time you've done it," Sebastian said. "And you're perfectly capable of reading, so that shouldn't be an issue. Also, this isn't on TV, so why are you nervous?"

"There are important people here," Chris said.

"You're one of them. I'm the plus-one tonight," Sebastian said. "Think about that." Chris was wearing his white tuxedo jacket. The same one that he left on the floor of Sebastian's bedroom after their tryst. Sebastian wondered how often Chris thought about it. Maybe he relived the entire thing when he slipped the jacket on. It was exactly what was happening to Sebastian.

"Showtime," Chris said, stepping out of the car. "Ready?"

"Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to be asking that," Sebastian said.

The Writers Guild was no Oscars. It wasn't even as fancy as a movie premiere. Chris and Sebastian basically walked through the Beverly Hilton like it was a normal day. There wasn't a red carpet outside and there weren't even any reporters. All the action was inside, which Chris had always thought was more civil. When they did reach the ballroom, Chris straightened himself up, made sure that his wedding ring was on full display, just in case, and mentally prepared his talking points.

"I am taking this as a sign that everyone forgot about me," Chris said, smiling at the first reporter. "It's too early for an honorary award. I appreciate it. It's just hard to believe."

"You're one of the only writers that has managed to write bestselling fiction, award-winning movies, and a hit TV show," the reporter said. "Nobody forgot. Everyone wants more. What's next?"

Chris looked over at Sebastian. "I do have something coming up, but I can't talk about it yet," Chris said. "I'm very proud of it, though. It should be amazing."

"Is it another book?"

"No, it's not," Chris said. "But I can't say anything more than that."

"Where is your husband tonight?"

"My husband is with our son," Chris said. "We have to split our lives between awards ceremonies and soccer practice now. So, I have my good friend Sebastian tonight, who is just as handsome and charming."

"Nobody is as charming as Armie Hammer," Sebastian clarified. "I'm here to support my best friend. Supremely talented, so creative. This man has ideas that are just amazing. He deserves this award and trust me, what's next is bigger and better than anything out there."

Chris felt himself blush. "It should be good," Chris said. "It is very special to me."

The two of them walked down the press line, speaking to the Times and Variety, hoping that he wasn't being too repetitive. Sebastian was being more talkative than Chris thought he'd be, but everyone seemed to be as interested in speaking to him as they were to talk to Chris. It was a relief to have someone else talk. Armie would usually stand back at an event like this, letting Chris take the entire spotlight, only coming in and adding a sentence or two when he thought he could make a joke.

"I didn't know this was a lifetime achievement award," Sebastian said between interviews.

"It's not," Chris said. "It's just something they're doing to make the Writers Guild seem cool."

"You're not cool," Sebastian said.

"I am compared to some of the people here," Chris said. "Trust me, I know I'm not cool." He surveyed the room, looking to see if he recognized anyone. "Well, the people who work in TV, they're really cool."

"We should get In-N-Out after this. It's tradition."

"I won't say no to that," Chris said, smiling. Now he had a real reason for wanting the night to go by faster. Two, actually. The food and heading back home to his boys were what would get him through the ceremony.

"I am auditioning for that project," Sebastian said. "From what you told me, it really is incredible."

"Stop," Chris said. "Right now, it might as well be canned. I'm going to pull it from Greg and my lawyers are going to hope that the morality clause is reason enough. I don't want it to get out."

"I don't get why you have to go through all those hoops. There was misconduct."

"I want to do it the right way. I owe Greg a lot."

"This is some sort of twisted Stockholm Syndrome," Sebastian said, keeping his voice low. They headed towards their seats, hoping to get a little way away from the larger group of guests, who were still mingling and chatting, even though the show was about to start. 

"You're not wrong," Chris said. "And I don't want him to do what he did to me, or even something worse, but I don't want him to get dragged through the press."

"I can't say I wouldn't punch him in the face," Sebastian said. "I care about you. You shouldn't have to go through this."

"I don't want to think about it right now. We should know what's going on by tomorrow or the next day. Greg won't fight this," Chris said. "I own the material."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"I appreciate it," Chris said. "But I have to do it my..." he stopped himself before he finished, Armie's words echoing in his head. "I really appreciate it."

***

Armie tossed a load of clothes into the dryer, being careful to lay out Chris' sweater and Euan's soccer uniforms, just like he'd been told to. The domesticity may have seemed mundane to anyone else, but he never complained. He liked the reminder that someone depended on him for more than just his acting career. Euan and Chris needed him for plenty of things.

"You have to remember to take the Legos out of your pockets, buddy," Armie said. "We'll lose track of the three million blocks you have."

"Since dad and Seba are working, can you cross for me?" First it was Bastian, then Sebs like his dads. Now, after hearing that there were professional soccer players that went by Seba, Euan wondered why Sebastian didn't do it.

Armie smiled. "Are you finished with your homework?"

Euan nodded, "I always finish it before I ask you."

"Let me get this done and we'll head out. Go set up the goal."

"We need more grass," Euan said as he headed towards the hall closet, where he kept all of his equipment. "Or we can walk to the park."

"Let's go to the park another time," Armie said. "If you want bigger grass, we have to move to a bigger house."

"Luis's house has a big front yard," Euan said. "Like our house in Santa Barbara."

"Yeah, maybe we should get a bigger yard," Armie said. "Convince your dad and I'll try my best, too."

"Why does dad only wear black clothes?"

"Does he?" Armie asked, surveying the sorted laundry around him. "Why do you think he only wears black clothes?"

"Is dad sad?"

"Is he? You hang out with him every day."

"He's not sad when we hang out," Euan said. "But Luis and Dakota and Jon and Declan all say that dad's weird."

"Do you think he's weird?"

"No," Euan said. "I think he's different when he's with the other moms and dads. He's not as fun. He's fun at home."

"You know how you like to play soccer and you love when we're all watching you? Or how I like to make movies? We like to perform. Your dad doesn’t. You think it's cool and great, but he's not like that. I think your teammates just don't know him like we do."

Armie stood up, satisfied with the state of all their clothes, black or not. "Grab your cleats. I'll see you out there."

He started to wonder what other things the other parents thought. Chris had been in the public eye for so long, everyone assumed that they knew everything about him, from the huge splash he made with his first book and first movie to his apparent fall from grace with a high-profile divorce. He thought that the lack of details and concise press release made it straightforward, but Armie and everyone else saw it as a cover-up. There were no details because Chris and Jake didn't want anyone to know what really happened. 

But the more Armie actually learned, the more he saw that it was exactly what the magazines had reported. As mutual as it could have been, given the circumstances. Jake may have been the catalyst for it, but Chris was just as much a part of his as his ex-husband. What did the other parents think of him? Armie didn't even want to think about that, especially after a season of being an apparent absentee dad and now, a coach. As he headed to the front yard, was sure there were parents who thought he didn't deserve it.

"Stand there," Euan said, pointing to the training marker he'd set in the tiny patch of grass. The goal was set up in its usual spot and Euan had set up a few balls, all of them ready for Armie to kick.

"Am I the coach or you?" Armie asked. 

"Come on, daddy," Euan said, already in place.

Armie followed directions, kicking quick crosses across the front of the open goal as Euan smashed the ball in. Armie let his mind wander to Chris and Sebastian, who had to be at the event by now. The press loved covering their friendship and Sebastian had mentioned that his agent had no problem with the extra attention. Armie considered himself lucky in that department. He'd been in relationships where friends didn't particularly care for him -- and he'd been on the other side, too. Chris probably felt that way with Nick, though Armie was sure that was getting better now that Euan was in the picture.

Armie liked Sebastian. A lot. He was kind and great with Chris and Euan. Plus, he had good connections, really good ones. Armie was deep into everyone in Sebastian's contact list after exhausting his own for Chris' show. With only one good lead, he was beginning to think that pulling it from Greg's production company and having it land absolutely nowhere was the only option. They were all doing their best, but it was tough to keep things quiet and ask for favors at the same time.

On top of all that, Armie had three offers on the table. If Chris could finalize his project, Armie's life would be easier, but it looked like he'd be shooting again if everything worked out. Armie watched Euan, giving some words of encouragement as watched, looking at his form, footwork, and ball control. He and Chris promised each other that they'd do their best not to be working away from home at the same time. It was getting tough to make everything work out and Armie was sure that their best-laid plans would be cracking soon. He was hoping that Chris would be pretty hands-off after he finished his script. There was still too much in the air.

"I don't like when the team doesn't cross the ball right," Euan said.

"It's different when there are defenders out there," Armie explained. "That's why we do the five-on-fives at practice."

"I do everything I'm supposed to," Euan said.

"It's more than that," Armie said. Euan's striker mentality was there, no doubt about it. "It's a team sport. Switch feet now. Try the other one."

Armie pulled out his phone, sending off a message to Chris just to check in. He added a quick clip of Euan kicking in a goal, just to let him know what he was missing out on. Whenever these impromptu drills happened -- and they did pretty often -- Chris was usually standing in the frame of the front door watching. He was always a quiet presence when Euan's sporting endeavors were involved, except when he scored. When that happened, Chris couldn't help it. He over-the-top excited, arms up in the air or hugging Armie tight as they cheered.

"Penalty kicks for 15 minutes and then get cleaned up for bed, okay?"

"Is dad going to be on TV tonight?"

"Not this time," Armie said. "Maybe he'll be online. I'll show you if I can find it."

"If he wins, we should get bigger grass."

"He's winning one," Armie said. "They're giving him a special award. And he's not wearing all black."

***

"Take your clothes off," Chris heard as he walked into his bedroom. The house was quiet and dark, but that wasn't a surprise, since it was almost midnight. Finding Armie sitting on the trunk at the foot of their bed was surprising, though. As Chris walked further into the room, he saw that Armie was stripped down to his underwear and a white tank top. He was hard and there was no light in the room other than a candle Armie had lit on the nightstand.

"Armie..." Chris said, his voice soft. 

"Take your clothes off," Armie said again, his tone stern.

Chris slipped his jacket off, unsure of where to put it. Armie motioned over to the chair with a slight tilt of his chin. Chris took a few slow steps and placed his white jacket down and proceeded to undo his pants. The glow from the candle cast a soft gold light over everything and Armie's hungry gaze took in every line of Chris' tense muscles. He walked back around to face Armie and pushed his underwear off, standing naked as commanded. Armie looked up and down, who biting his lip and adjusting himself through his briefs.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked, feeling goosebumps form all over his arms. 

"Get down on your knees right here in front of me," Armie said. "I'm going to fuck your mouth."

Doing as he was told, Chris took a few strides towards Armie and fell to his knees, his eyes looking up, silently asking for permission to proceed. When he reached up, Armie raised his hips enough for Chris to pull his underwear off and his cock sprang up, thick and ready, pulsing with his heartbeat as Chris leaned in to lick at his balls. 

"That's not what I said to do." Armie's voice was stoic and even though there was nothing harsh about them, Chris felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on him. He wasn't following the directions. "Open." It was the same stern tone.

Chris shut his eyes and Armie's cockhead, already wet with pearls of precum, slid between his lips. Armie ran it over Chris' tongue a few times, steadying himself with a few light thrusts before he got to his feet, kicking his underwear off to the side and spreading his legs a little bit more to get everything lined up. Chris did his best to open up his throat and Armie slid in further, his fingers gripping at Chris' head as he thrust in, more and more of his cock disappearing into Chris' mouth. Chris grunted, surprised at how quickly things escalated. Armie was true to his word, fucking Chris' throat with smooth rolls of his hips, his balls bouncing against Chris' chin. Chris struggled to keep his breathing steady as Armie moved, seemingly oblivious to the gagging and groaning coming from below him. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard and keeping his hands on Armie's calves, doing his best to ignore his own dick, which was just as hard and smacked against his taut stomach as Armie thrust into his throat.

Armie was groaning, too, sinking his cock in deep and feeling the slick warmth of Chris' throat with every motion. He angled Chris' head slightly a few times, tilting it just so to get a different feel on his dick. He looked down and had to bite his lower lip. Seeing Chris down there was almost too hot.

Chris pulled off to catch his breath and wipe the spit from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, but Armie pushed back in, satisfied that he'd managed to throw off the rhythm a bit. Chris choked and sputtered, his face flushing and his lips pink. Armie pushed in deep and held him down, groaning at the wet squeeze and tight heat. He let out a low growl and Chris pulled off again, coughing and breathing heavily.

Armie pulled him up and kissed him, tongue sliding in deep where his cock had just been, tasting a hint of precum. His hands were all over Chris' body, pressing hard behind his balls, stroking him, coming up to run his hands over Chris' waist. Chris struggled to feel Armie's skin, his hands clumsy as they went up under his tank top, feeling hot skin and soft hair, his back muscles flexing as he manhandled Chris.

Chris felt dizzy as Armie leaned him over the trunk kicking his legs apart before digging his tongue in as deep as he could into Chris' ass. It was a heady mix, going straight from filling his mouth to eating him out and he knew it was sending Chris' whole body into fits of overstimulation. His toes curled, his leg muscles flexed as he tried to steady himself, and Armie could feel it all as Chris fought a hard battle between trying to relax his hole and his body's natural instinct to seize up. 

"Open up for me, Christopher," Armie said, his voice blurring the line between stern and soothing. The only response he got was a whimper, but his tongue slipped through with less resistance.

Chris melted, his body slack as Armie worked him open, tongue and fingers alternating. He scrambled to grip something, but the edges of the trunk were too blunt and he couldn't get a hold of the sheets on the bed. Panting, he struggled to push back against Armie's mouth, groaning at the heat radiating through his whole body. He thought he heard himself saying Armie's name, but everything was so cloudy and fuzzy he couldn't be sure. Three fingers were twisting and stretching him, Armie sitting back for a few minutes, slicking up his cock, stroking himself as he watched Chris shudder and shiver every time he grazed his prostate or pushed hard on the throbbing spot.

Armie stood up, nudging Chris forward a tiny bit, making sure that his thighs were flush against the trunk. He leaned forward, kissing across Chris' shoulder, up his neck, and on his ear. "If I go too hard, say something," Armie said. "If it's ever too much, you have to stop me, okay? Tell me."

Chris nodded, spreading his legs more, eager to get Armie's dick in him, to feel the familiar burn and stretch.

"Say it," Armie said, one hand on Chris' ass, spreading his cheeks as the other one gripped Chris' shoulder.

"I'll tell you if it's ever too much," Chris said, his voice dry and gravely. After all these years, Armie still managed to push things, but Chris never thought it went too far. There were mornings when he'd wake up sore, with bruises and hickeys, and he'd never thought things had gone past his limits. Armie pushed forward and Chris let out a long sigh, squeezing tight around Armie's thick dick. He could feel Armie over him even though his eyes were shut tight. Armie ground in, pulling back on Chris' shoulders to get in every bit he could. Chris was clamping down on him, staying tight, his back muscles tense. Armie pumped a few times, using his whole length, making sure Chris felt every inch slide through his ring.

Armie ran a hand down Chris' back, tracing the lines as he fucked in hard, grabbing Chris' waist and fucking in with his whole body, a sheen of sweat blooming all over the both of them, Armie's white tank top soaking through. Chris was grunting under Armie as he sped up, skin smacking loud, echoing in both of their ears as Armie pulled back with each thrust forward, slamming deep and long every time. Chris was pliant under him, his body relaxing and his hole opening up for Armie's fucking.

"Armie," Chris groaned, pressing his chest down to arch his back as best as he could. It was a struggle against the unyielding rigidity of the trunk and his toes barely touched the hardwood of the floor. He felt like he was at Armie's complete mercy, like he had no control over his own body, and he was drowning in all the sensation.

Armie hiked one of Chris' knees up on the trunk, opening him wider, fucking him deeper and slamming forward. His breathing was ragged and he was rushing towards orgasm, his body betraying every intention of making this last. He pulled out suddenly, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping the sweat from his face. Chris whimpered at the sudden emptiness, turning his head around and watching as Armie pulled the tank top off entirely, throwing it over his shoulder.

"How tender are you?" Armie asked, his voice low and quiet.

"Don't stop now," Chris said, scrambling to get his feet on the floor. He turned around to take in the sight of Armie's sweaty body, his chest hair matted down in places, a deep flush going down his arms and torso, and his cock still dripping and shiny with lube. Chris stood up to kiss him, feeling his sides and biceps, craving more contact.

"You got me too close," Armie said, grinning. He put a hand to the middle of Chris' chest and he settled on his back, legs automatically coming up to Armie's shoulders. Armie kissed him one more time as he slid back in, his thrusting slower this time, fluid and regular, enjoying the slick heat and being able to see Chris' face and chest. Head tossed back, Chris was grateful to be filled again. He was close, too, but he was right back on the edge as Armie drilled his prostate, rolling his hips and sliding through his tight ring.

Jolts of electricity shot up Chris' back and he swore his ears were ringing. He held Armie's hand tight as he clenched his chute, working toward his own orgasm again. Armie's jaw was slack and he held tight to Chris' legs, pumping deep and long again, building back to a familiar rhythm, feeling and seeing Chris react to every motion.

"Fuck," Chris said. "I'm close already." He bit his lip and arched up, every muscle tight and rigid as he fought back against what his body wanted.

"Cum for me," Armie said. A few well-aimed thrusts and Chris fell over the edge, spraying his stomach with thick white ropes of cum. His eyes shut tight and he felt every muscle in his body tense up, his toes curling and Armie keeping his cock buried in as deep as he could, riding out Chris' orgasm and feeling his ass clench and squeeze. "So good," Armie said, barely above a whisper. Watching Chris unravel was something he could never, ever get enough of.

He leaned down for another kiss, softly touching Chris' legs, waiting for him to come back down to earth. Before Chris found his bearings, Armie had carried him over to the bed, settling the two of them down so that he was in Armie's lap, slowly rolling his hips, kissing Armie's shoulder and neck. It was so different than what had happened a few minutes before, Chris thought. He was letting his body move, trying to smash as much of himself against Armie as possible. There was no jackhammering. Instead, Chris worked himself up and down, getting Armie in deep and grinding down, feeling the stretch in a whole different way. Armie's hand slid up and down his back and his eyes were half-lidded, the whole world hazy as Chris sucked at his neck and rode him with slow, smooth strokes.

"You look so hot," Armie said, his vision starting to blur, stars at the edges. He couldn't feel enough, his hands moving all over Chris' legs and hips, his rough hands gliding over sweaty, smooth skin. Chris kissed him, all tongue and lips, hungry to have Armie any way possible, filling him in every way. He held himself steady, holding onto Armie's shoulders as he rode him, letting his body go on instinct and need. After he came, he was always hypersensitive. Armie's hands felt like hot iron on his skin, his dick felt even bigger, thicker, and every bump against his prostate felt like lightning jolting through him. He bit down, muffling his own whimpers and groans as Armie pumped his hips up. He reached up, fingers tangling in Chris' hair and pulling back, exposing the long line of Chris' throat. Armie bit down softly, kissing and sucking at the tender skin as Chris gasped, struggling to stay upright. Armie let out a groan when he felt Chris cum again, his body shaking, his ass milking Armie's cock. That was enough to pull Armie over the edge, too, spilling his load inside Chris as he felt sticky heat between them, Chris' load smearing on their abs.

"God," Chris said, gasping for air, his face still pressed into the crook of Armie's neck. He settled in against Armie's body, fitting himself into the curves and contours of his body, hoping to find the familiar tangle that allowed for as much of them to touch as possible. "I'm going to pass out."

"Shh," Armie said, rubbing Chris' back. "I've got you." 

And Chris knew exactly what Armie had done. If only for a little while, his mind was far, far away from the whole thing. "I love you," Chris said, his lips grazing Armies' throat as he spoke. "So, so much."

As they settled down on the bed, Armie pushed Chris' hair off of his forehead, running his fingers down the side of Chris' face. One more kiss and Chris let out a long, slow breath. For now, everything felt exactly right. They'd deal with the real world tomorrow.

***

"I'm sorry we couldn't see this through," Greg said. "And I sincerely apologize for making you feel the way I did. That was not my intention."

The whole thing was being recorded. Chris didn't know exactly how sincere Greg was being. From the amount of sweat on his brow, Chris figured it wasn't very much. "Here's hoping that something works out for us in the future," Chris said. "I think that HBO will be a better partner for what I need."

"I respect that," Greg said, his eyes darting over to Chris' lawyer and his own. "And I wish you the best."

"Thank you," Chris said, getting up. It was unspoken, but this was definitely going to be the last time he stepped into Berlanti Productions. He'd spent the entire morning freaking out and confirming everything he could. Armie had managed to get him a call with HBO and Chris stated his case, promising something amazing and fresh. Sebastian was sitting at the counter, trying to follow the flurry of phone calls, text messages, and emails. He took a sip of his coffee and tried to contribute, sending a message off to his agent, saying that he'd caught wind of a big project from Christopher Hammer at HBO and wanted in. That would be enough to get the industry reporters digging. It was not a well-oiled machine, but it would have to do. It was all they could pull together at the eleventh hour. Armie was right, Chris thought, he didn't have to do it by himself.

It worked. In less than an hour, David was getting calls about it, asking for confirmation and quotes. Chris was thankful that things worked so quickly when gossip was involved, even though he usually wanted nothing to do with it. If he could spin it, he would. Nobody knew that he'd agreed to do anything with Greg. Any news coming out would be new.

"I'm sure you're a busy man," Chris said. "I'll get out of your hair. The confidentiality agreement stands." He felt instantly lighter. It hurt to sever ties with someone he considered a friend, but he didn't want this show tainted with the bad taste of Greg's inappropriate behavior. This was done. Chris didn't know what it meant for their friendship, since it was hard to see them ever going back to where they'd been.

"Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen," Greg's lawyers said. Chris stood up, shook his hand and Greg's, and before he even realized it, he was standing outside at his car, his whole body shaking, his heart racing, and all of his composure completely shattered. He tried his best to breathe, to take long slow breaths, but he was struggling. He gripped his car, thankful that everyone had dispersed already. It took a few minutes to calm down, but it felt like an eternity, just like the last 48 hours had. He let his head hang down and managed to calm himself down after a few more minutes, willing his heart to slow down.

"How did your meeting go?" Chris asked as soon as Armie picked up the phone.

"How did yours go? Is it over?" Chris could hear the concern in his voice, could picture Armie sitting up a little straighter, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah, it's done," Chris said. He liked hearing it. "It's over."

"I'm proud of you," Armie said. "What you did wasn't easy."

"It doesn't feel real."

"Go home. Take it easy. We can head up to Santa Barbara after we pick up Euan."

"He has a game tomorrow," Chris said. He had the schedule memorized.

"The fields are too soggy from the rain this week. We're postponing," Armie explained. "It'll be good for you to get away for a few days."

Chris was quiet, trying to let everything settle down. Greg's words spun around his head. Treading water. Trophy. Ambition. He pushed them away, refusing to let Greg and Robbie's issues be any sort of mirror to his own situation. He and Armie were strong. They were stable.

"I love you, Chris," Armie said, his voice earnest and clear. It was exactly what Chris needed to hear. "No matter what happens now, that doesn't change. What's one dropped deal? We've all been there."

"I'll see you at home," Chris said. "I can't be here right now."

"More reason to get out. I know you have a bag packed in the closet. Just take it easy. I should be home soon."

"I love you, too," Chris said quickly.

Armie was right. Chris always had a duffle bag packed with a pair of jeans, a few T-shirts, and a pair of beat-up Vans sneakers. He didn't know why, since Armie had joked that it was his escape bag, something he could grab before disappearing forever. Whatever the reason, Chris had it for as long as he could remember. It came in handy a few times, when impromptu trips popped up. He remembered the time that Jake surprised him with a trip to Santa Fe or the time they went to Jackson Hole. The image of Jake holding the duffle in one hand and his backpack hanging off one shoulder was seared in his brain. Armie had done it, too, chucking it into the trunk and knowing that it had everything Chris needed for a weekend away. Santa Barbara. San Francisco. It went everywhere. Chris tossed in some more underwear and a belt and zipped it up. The canvas was pretty beat up, but the leather handles were still strong. He'd had it since college -- maybe it was time to think about getting a new one.

Chris busied himself around the house, hoping to expend any of the nervous energy coursing through his body before Armie got home. He got as far as pulling his leather jacket off its hanger and tossing it on the bed before he got distracted. He called Robbie, wanting and needing to know if things between them could possibly be the same. Robbie didn't answer when he called or after two text messages. Things were not the same.

Sighing, Chris sat down on the floor, his back against the vintage trunk that Greg had sent him. It had to go back, Chris thought. That would be an issue, but maybe it could be a sort of consolation prize. He'd endured enough, right? There was a certain pulling-off-a-Band-Aid feeling about the whole thing. He'd ripped it off as quickly as possible, enduring a few days of intense anxiety before a sudden rush of relief. No, Armie would want it out of the house. Chris would have to take the extra blankets out. It was one more thing he had to do.

He'd lost a partnership with Greg, he probably lost a friend in Robbie, and he'd probably lose more, not that he could really figure out everything right now. It was too fresh. The ink had barely dried on his agreement and he was already thinking about how he could ensure that anyone that was already hired could keep working. He didn't even know how far along things had gotten, so he was really worrying for nothing. Classic.

Letting out a long breath, Chris straightened up and ran his hands over his face. There was no point in dwelling on the day's news. It was done. There was no way to undo it now.

Armie bounded up the stairs, a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, before coming to a halt. He saw Chris sitting on the floor, scribbling wildly in a black notebook. He looked sullen, but the quick movement of his hand and the focus in his eyes let Armie know it wasn't necessarily bad. By now, Armie could tell what was going on. He knew the difference between a simple brain dump, when Chris was basically just getting all the ideas out of his brain; a serious writing session, which usually got transferred to the computer in due time; and more relaxed sessions, where Chris was doing something between the two, usually a smile on his face and Euan within his line of vision. 

Armie stood, frozen. He didn't want to interrupt, but he'd been tall long enough to know that if he moved, Chris would notice. He watched for a few minutes, carefully tracking the expressions playing across Chris' face, relieved that nothing stood out as particularly bad.

"Hey," Armie finally said as Chris' hand slowed down. "I got this for you."

Chris looked up.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Just ended up here," Chris said, shrugging. He scrambled up onto his feet and a few strides later, he had his arms wrapped around Armie's waist and his face pressed into his neck.

"Got your bag?" Armie said, his hand rubbing Chris' back. 

Chris lingered a second longer before grabbing the coffee. "I'm ready."

"I'm not," Armie said, kissing Chris' forehead. "Unless you did it for me."

"When do you ever pack for yourself?" Chris asked before sipping on his coffee. He went back over to where he was sitting and picked up the journal, tossing it into his bag before sitting on the trunk.

"I can get Euan's things," Armie said. "You can take it easy."

Chris nodded and Armie came over, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Did I screw everything up?"

"No," Armie said. "This is for the better."

***

Euan rushed through the house, happily bounding into his bedroom as Chris and Armie pulled drop cloths off the sofa and opened up all the windows to let in some fresh air. It was home, even though they spent less and less time here. Euan was elated to have a yard to practice his footwork and Chris couldn't be happier to leave Los Angeles in the rear-view mirror. As short-lived as these trips were, it was always easier to forget about that part of their lives when it was two hours away.

"Hey, bring your bag into your room," Armie said, his voice carrying down the hall. "Your room is exactly the way you left it last time."

"I'm going to head to the grocery store. What do you need?"

"Nothing special. Whatever you want for dinner and some milk and bananas for the kid."

Chris reached around Armie, his hand going down into his front pocket to get the car keys. "I'll be right back." A kiss on the lips, a second one when Armie pulled him back, and Chris was out the door.

Armie walked through the house, following the sound of Euan's commotion to the spare room, which had a desk and couch with a pull-out bed, just in case. Euan had started to call it Sebastian's room, which wasn't entirely inaccurate. 

"That's not a toy, Euan," Armie said, lunging for the wooden box in his hands. Euan placed it back on the desk before Armie could even reach it.

"What are those?" Euan asked. "Rainbow quarters?"

"No, they're not money," Armie said. "Your dad gets them when he goes to meetings sometimes." He couldn't remember the last time Chris went to one and he didn't even realize that Chris had kept these. It was a part of Chris before they met. Armie had only read about it, which made him flash back to the first time he'd peeked inside Chris' fridge to find Sebastian's beer. Since Armie had known Chris, he was completely clean and sober. He made it look easy, which was probably why Armie had forgotten all about it.

"I need some tape," Euan said. "That's what I was looking for."

"I'm pretty sure it's in one of the drawers," Armie said, pulling the top one open to reveal a roll of Scotch tape. "What are you taping up?"

"I have a poster I wanted to put in my room here," Euan said. "I brought it."

"Do you need help?"

"No," Euan said. "I can do it."

Armie followed Euan into his bedroom, which was sparsely decorated but still featured a tiny framed sticker of Wolverine. Euan hadn't had the opportunity to put his own personality on the walls and Armie figured it was about to happen. "Who are you putting up?"

"Robbie gave me a poster of David Beckham," Euan said. When Armie followed Euan into his room and saw what he had, it was more a postcard than an actual poster.

"That was nice of him," Armie said. "Do you want to get a frame for it like your dad's tiny picture?"

"I don't need it," Euan said, already taping the card up on the wall near his bed. He took a few steps back to survey the new addition to his room and seemed satisfied.

"Did they ever play together?" Armie asked. He probably would have heard about it if they did, but he couldn't recall.

"No," Euan said. "But that would have been cool."

"How is it without Caleb on your team?"

Euan paused and sat down on his bed. "I know that dad is having a fight with Caleb's dad."

"It's not really a fight," Armie said, sitting down on the bed and leaning back on his hands. "But you've got the right idea. You and Caleb are still allowed to be friends."

"Good," Euan said. "He's still my best friend."

"You don't have to stop being best friends, ever," Armie assured him, patting his shoulder. "Get your cleats on, I know you've been dying to kick the ball."

"Dad is okay, right?"

"He's fine," Armie said. "You don't have to worry about him."

***

Chris scrolled through his phone, making sure he'd gotten all the ingredients he needed for dinner. Armie would probably spend the rest of the day in the yard with Euan, so it was up to him to cook. That didn't leave many options. He'd gathered what he hoped would be enough for the weekend, the cashier helping him pack it all into the reusable cloth tote bags that were now required up and down the coast. As he turned toward the exit, he got distracted by the magazine rack and stopped for just a second, grocery bags in both of his hands as he scanned the covers. It was the usual celebrity stuff, which Chris always looked at just to make sure his own name or photo wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Chris," he heard. The voice was familiar, but he wasn't going to turn around yet. It couldn't be real. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and it was very much real. Jake was in Santa Barbara. Jake was right there. Chris froze at the touch and his breath catch. Emotions rushed through him and he felt himself well up. Of course, Jake would be there when he felt like everything was falling apart. Chris couldn't stop it, he started to cry and Jake's eyes grew wide with surprise. "I've been trying to get your attention since you were paying. What's going on?"

"A lot," Chris said, dropping the groceries and wiping at his eyes. "I'm just dealing with a contract that went bad and I think I lost a friend. It's just bringing back a lot of bad memories."

Chris looked up at Jake's eyes, the deep blue was so different from Armie's, which he looked at every day. His hair was messy and he had the same charming crow's feet pulling at the corner of his eyes. Everything about it was so familiar still, from the warmth that was coming off his body to his cologne. Chris instinctively smashed his face into Jake's shoulder, trying to get into the comfort that came with being in the crook of his neck. Jake's hands were on his back, rubbing small circles. Chris' body wasn't heaving, but the quiet sobs broke Jake's heart.

"Let me help you. Do you have time for a coffee?"

"I can if we make it quick," Chris said, his voice barely audible. "I need one. I think there's a place right by here."

"Lead the way," Jake said, picking up the two grocery bags. "I've got you."

Chris apologized over and over again as they walked two doors down, even though Jake said that there was absolutely nothing to be sorry for. And as Chris told him what happened, Jake could feel a slow burn rising inside of him, it made him mad that Chris was going through it. On top of that, the fact that Jake couldn't do anything about it made matters worse. Even though Chris said that things were done, Jake felt the urge to drive down to L.A. and punch Greg in the face. As they sipped their coffee, Jake probed, not caring that he was probably going too far. He wanted to know everything, from what Greg said to how close he got. And the more he heard, the angrier he got.

Jake took a deep breath, glad that Chris could decompress and let it all out right there. He didn't know if Chris was holding it in or if he just needed to process it one more time, but he was happy to let it happen. A few minutes later, he asked about Euan and Chris' mood lifted right away. There was a sparkle in his eyes and he couldn't help but smile when he talked about his soccer games and his affinity for putting together little robots. It sent a throb through Jake's heart, knowing that this was something Chris never thought he'd have and seeing how much joy it brought him. Maybe one day he'd get the chance to meet the kid. It was weird to think about, but Jake entertained the thought for just a second. Things would have to be different. Jake didn't want to make things uncomfortable for Chris or Armie. That pipe dream would probably stay a pipe dream.

Chris sat back a little bit, relaxing as Jake talked about getting more involved with politics and public service. He was in Santa Barbara to meet with people about heading to Washington, something he'd wanted to do for a long, long time. He was coming down from a few big projects, he explained, and needed to decompress. Chris understood, knowing just how much of a toll it took on his mental state when he had to fully immerse himself in the creative process. Chris had experience in D.C., too, which was another reason Jake had decided to get more active. It wasn't just Chris' books that were inspiring, Jake said. The things he did with literacy and education were just as important.

"I love that hoodie," Jake said, finally noticing that Chris kept glancing at his watch. He'd already tapped out a message on his phone. Jake figured it was to Armie, even though Chris didn't mention it at all.

"It's a hundred years old," Chris said, looking down at his cuffs, which were worn and fraying. "I wear it way too much."

Jake wondered if Chris knew and just didn't say it. Unless, that is, he really was clueless. "If I was a bitter ex, I'd ask for it back." There. He said it. He'd thought about it for years, which was ridiculous to acknowledge, but it was the truth. Seeing Chris wear it and wear it so often, tugged at something inside of him.

"Why? It's mine."

"Are you sure?" Jake asked, crossing his arms. "I'm pretty sure you're wearing my hoodie."

Chris chuckled and wiped his face with his hands, making sure the last of his tears were nowhere to be found. "I'm not."

"Are you sure?" Jake asked, his eyes narrowing and a playful smile pulling at his lips as he looked closer.

Chris sat up. "Yours ripped in the armpit when we went to Austin," Chris said. He raised his arm. "I tried to sew it up with the thing in the hotel room, but I could only thread the red string through the needle, remember?"

"Oh shit, you're right," Jake said. "I do remember. Wow. What happened to it, do you know?"

"I have no idea," Chris lied. He knew exactly where it was: neatly folded in a shirt box on the floor of the walk-in closet. It still smelled faintly like Jake, but Chris couldn't remember the last time he'd even thought about it. Back when things were still raw, he remembered opening the box and just staring at it, wondering why things went south and how the two of them just couldn't get through their own stubbornness. The idea of coming clean crossed his mind, but he couldn't bear with losing that one connection to Jake.

"Sorry," Jake said. "I just really loved it."

"I get it," Chris said, his voice softening. "You get attached to things. I have to get home."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I'm glad you got that out of your system. I know you feel like you have to keep that in, but you shouldn't. You're allowed to cry."

"I know...but sometimes I feel like I'm not allowed," Chris said. He reached out and squeezed Jake's shoulder. "This was a nice surprise. I'm glad we talked."

"Good luck with that stew," Jake said. "I'll see you around," he added, regretting it right away. They didn't see each other often and it was probably for the best.

"I didn't tell you what I was making," Chris said.

"I saw what you bought. I know you," Jake said.

"Even after all of this?" Chris asked.

"You've changed a lot," Jake said. "But you're still the guy I fell in love with. I'll never forget that."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	7. Chapter 7

Chris' heart was broken. Not for himself, but because Caleb had told Euan that they couldn't hang out anymore. Euan had told him in the car as they made their way home, his eyes turned down at his hands, his voice soft. Chris felt his guts twisting inside of him as he listened, heard Euan say that Robbie and Greg thought it would be better if they just saw each other at school. They were on different soccer teams now, so they didn't have practice together or play games together. Chris didn't want it to happen. He was prepared to be civil so that the two best friends could remain best friends, but it looked like that wouldn't be happening. He hated himself for putting Euan through this. Caleb had to be feeling just as bad. Chris shifted his anger to Robbie and Greg again. This was on them. Chris wanted to know exactly what Caleb had said. He wanted to hear the words.

"This will blow over," Chris said. "He'll come around."

"I hope so," Euan said. He dropped his backpack on the couch on his way through the house. 

"Everything okay?" Armie asked. Chris shook his head.

"Will you be my goalie?" Euan asked, already rifling through the hall closet for his things. 

"Do you have any homework?" Armie asked. Euan shook his head and Armie looked over at Chris, who just shrugged. There was no reason not to let the kid get his emotions out with some physical activity. "Sure. Let's practice free kicks."

"Like Beckham," Euan said.

"Just like David Beckham," Armie said.

Chris sat down at the kitchen island and tapped out a message to Robbie. By now, Chris figured that Robbie had blocked his number, but he tried one more time. This called for a talk. He'd burned whatever bridge he had with Greg, but seeing Euan so down made Chris hope for something, anything. Right now, his entire world felt like dust and ash, everything crumbling because Euan wasn't in a state of complete bliss. Chris had been through this himself, but he didn't know what to say or how to get his son through this. Friends came and went, but when you were 7, it was usually because they moved away, not because your dads had gone through contract dissolution. Forget messages. He took a deep breath and just called.

"I'm in Santa Monica," Robbie said, startling Chris with his deadpan tone when he answered. "I can be at your place in 15 minutes."

"I'll be here," Chris said, not sure what else he could say. Robbie hung up before either one of them could say anything else and Chris figured he was driving. Chris made himself some coffee to pass the time. He could hear Armie and Euan out front, the loud smack of the ball against his cleat and Armie's encouragement, which he couldn't make out exactly, but things sounded positive. Chris didn't know what to expect, especially since the whole thing was coming so suddenly. Frankly, he wasn't prepared -- and he knew it.

Armie watched Euan's face carefully. He was looking for an unusual show of emotion, some anger or sadness, but he didn't see it. It was just concentration, his eyes laser focused on the ball with every kick. Armie didn't know if Euan was trying to forget about what happened or if he was just pushing the fact into the back of his mind, but whatever he was doing, it was enough to be a distraction. He was doing fine. Armie asked him as soon as the two of them were in the front yard and when he asked again, he got the same answer.

"Did dad not want me?"

Armie froze. "What did you hear?"

"That dad didn't even want to adopt anyone. That you made him."

Armie felt his whole body tense up even more and he took a slow three count to bolster himself. "Has anyone ever made your dad do something he doesn't want to do?" Armie asked. "Whoever told you that was angry and wanted to hurt your feelings."

Euan took another kick, but it went out wide. Armie could practically see him thinking.

"Has your dad ever made you feel like he didn't want you to be in his life?"

"No," Euan said without hesitation.

Robbie was late. His 15 minutes ended up being half an hour and he pulled up to Chris and Armie's house in time to see Euan and his dad -- daddy, if Robbie wanted to go by the weird way he addressed his dads -- finishing up free kicks. Armie ran his hand through his hair and made his way to the house, smiling when he saw Euan's excited expression. It was clear to everyone that Euan idolized him and his own history was what got the kid into his soccer obsession.

"Looks good, Euan," Robbie said. "I saw a few from the car."

Euan's smile grew even bigger. "I practice every day."

"I can tell. Really," Robbie said. "Keep it up."

"Good to see you," Armie said, doing his best to muster a smile. This could either go very well or very bad.

"Chris inside?"

"Dad is in the kitchen," Euan clarified. "I think he's making dinner."

"Thanks," Robbie said, kneeling down and squeezing Euan's shoulder. "Things are going to be okay, Euan. Greg overreacted. I'm sorry that your feelings got hurt." Armie felt relief wash over him. Things weren't going to be so bad.

"Can you watch me kick one more?"

"Of course," Robbie said, straightening up. He watched as Armie knelt down in front of the goal, which was pretty comical to see. Euan was off to one side, setting things up like there was an imaginary group of defenders. As he kicked, Robbie could see the beginnings of a curve, something that took either years of training or pure talent. He raised an eyebrow and felt a smile form. "You're doing really great. Keep it up."

Robbie gave Armie a nod and made his way through the open front door. He'd been over at the house a hundred times before. He shut the hall closet as he walked by and found Chris in the kitchen, just like Euan said he'd be. He was in a black T-shirt and dark blue jeans, his usual uniform. "Thanks for coming," Chris said, his whole demeanor softening. "It means a lot. What were you doing out here?"

"Scoping out locations. It's easier to get permits in Santa Monica than anywhere else."

"I didn't mean for anything to come between the two of us," Chris said. "We're friends. You helped us a lot."

"Friends don't generally accuse each other's husbands of sexual harassment," Robbie said.

"I didn't want to," Chris said. "But what was I supposed to do?"

"We've talked about it. I'm sorry that it happened. I'm sorry that Caleb said what he did to Euan. He just heard us arguing. He never should have repeated it."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Chris said. He leaned against the counter and took a long drink of water. He didn't know what to say. He thought he'd been through this enough times, but it was harder talking to someone so close to Greg. "You didn't do anything."

"He's my husband," Robbie said. "I didn't want to believe it."

Chris told Robbie what happened, just to make sure that he knew both sides. There was no doubt that Greg had given Robbie his side of the story, but knowing how things turned out, Robbie couldn't deny that his husband was the one in the wrong. Chris didn't embellish and didn't exaggerate. He kept his head level and the facts straight. Robbie listened intently, his face looking more and more tired and concerned as Chris got into the details.

"But if he did it to me, what's to say he's not out there doing it to other people?" Chris asked.

"That's what surprised me," Robbie said. "You could have made this a huge deal, but you didn't."

"I'm not here to make him the center of a huge scandal," Chris said. "But I will if we find out he's done this to anyone."

Robbie let out a sigh. He didn't want this to be a huge scandal. He didn't want it to be any size scandal. He knew Chris signed a non-disclosure agreement. But he also knew that there was no way to fight it; challenging something like that would only make Greg look more guilty. "The kids shouldn't be in the middle of this. I'm sorry about what happened with everything."

"Even if things aren't perfect between us, the boys should be able to be friends," Chris said.

Robbie nodded. "Things aren't great between me and Greg right now. We're working on it."

"And I hope that everything works out," Chris said. "But you have to understand that Greg and I aren't going to go back to where we were before. That's just not going to happen. I don't think that's unreasonable."

"Yeah, I get that. I came for Caleb and Euan. I like that they're friends and I think that they're good for each other. I don't want that to stop."

"It won't," Chris assured him. "I'm sure the kids will forget about this."

"And we won't ever forget about it. But we're good," Robbie said. "I'm sorry I ignored you. I was getting my bearings."

Chris knew that everyone dealt with things in their own way. He'd garnered a reputation for either overreacting. Robbie sat down on a stool and rubbed his eyes. He felt like a failure on so many levels, he didn't know where to even start talking about it or even if he wanted to talk about it at all.

"Is Robbie staying for dinner?" Euan asked as he bounded into the kitchen.

"No cleats in the house," Chris said. The unmistakable sound of Euan's steps against the tile floor was enough to let his dad know that he'd been too enthusiastic to kick them off. "Armie's making steaks. You want to stay?"

"I wish I could," Robbie said. "But I need to head back soon."

"Let's get you cleaned up before dinner," Armie said, coming in and giving Chris a quick kiss. "Chris, can you turn on the barbecue?"

Chris nodded, letting his hand linger on Armie's back as he turned to follow Euan upstairs. When they were alone again, Robbie straightened up. "Just in case I forget, I've got to tell you: your kid is something special. You can practice the same thing over and over again to try and get it right, but he's got the talent. If he really wants to -- if you guys really want him to -- he's going to be a big deal on the pitch. I don't know if you guys have thought about it seriously, but you should."

"What do you mean?"

"Take him out of AYSO. Get him on a club, so he can play for real. You'll see. He's got something I've never seen before."

"Thank you. I'm sure he'd love to hear that from you," Chris said.

"I'm serious," Robbie said. "Think about it. I know people. I'll help. It's the least I could do for you."

"Are you sure you can't stay for dinner?"

"I'm going to head out," Robbie said, reaching over and giving Chris' shoulder a squeeze. He looked tired and worn, like he hadn't slept well for a long time and there was a weight on his shoulders he was struggling to bear on his own. "Sorry again."

"Don't ignore me anymore," Chris said. "I'm here."

***

"What, like you're tired?" Chris asked, giving Sebastian a half-smile. "Just a 13-hour day." He handed him a beer with one hand and a plate of food with the other. It was dark, Armie was upstairs putting Euan through his nighttime routine, and the Sebastian had dragged his feet out to the patio after a long day of filming. Chris knew his schedule because he got it in his email every day -- Sebastian was cast as the lead in "Nine More Stories" and as much as he loved being able to be a part of a Christopher Hammer project, the condensed shooting schedule was wearing him down.

It had been a month since production had moved to HBO. With the whole Greg situation behind him, Chris managed to polish up the source material and offer a clear direction to the writing staff. Things were moving along faster than he'd ever experienced. With a huge team ready and willing to get things done, it was efficient and streamlined. He'd gone through the whole process before with PBS, but the way things moved so smoothly surprised him. Armie was impressed, too, especially when Sebastian explained just how well things were going on set.

"You never make things easy, do you?" Sebastian asked. He was being tasked with playing nine characters in what amounted to nine very short movies. Chris could imagine the critics already. This project had all the trappings of a trying-too-hard Christopher Lewis-Gyllenhaal-Hammer production: an overwrought concept, actors connected to him personally, an all-star behind-the-camera team, and very, very high expectations.

"This is good," Sebastian said as he shoveled the salad and roasted vegetables into his mouth. He would have done the same for the pork tenderloin, if it happened to be cut into bite-size pieces. 

"I made it," Chris said, sitting back on the lounger, his eyes staring out across the canal, the water lazily moving in the moonlight. The usually sparkling, glittering reflections didn't move like they did when the water moved more, but it seemed to match Sebastian's energy level.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. Did you marinade this and everything?"

"Hey, I'm learning," Chris said. "Probably a decade too late, but I'm learning."

"Halfway done," Sebastian said. "Have you been watching any of the dailies?"

"I try not to," Chris said. "But I watch the ones where you're not wearing a shirt."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not being weird," Chris said.

"You're being weird. If anyone knows, it's me." Sebastian noticed Chris' demeanor right away. Instead of his usual brand of sarcasm-tinged humor, he seemed distant and distracted.

"Things are weird between me and Robbie now. I'm starting a new book. Armie's halfway through his movie. It's just a lot right now."

"Nothing new. What is this, your fifteenth book?"

"That's an exaggeration," Chris said. "Some of those 15 are just short stories. Some of them are other people's stories." He didn't feel burned out, he just had a nagging feeling that people were getting sick of him. He was getting sick of himself. But he didn't know how to take a break, either. He couldn't turn his brain off.

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"One bad review makes you forget all about anything good," Chris said. He was already worried about what people would think about the show. Sebastian's reputation was at stake, too. It was a risk he took, way back when he made sure Jake would be in his movies, all the way to his PBS show, which put Armie in the line of fire, too. It wasn't ever just him, except when it came to his books. He was fine with that. He didn't want Sebastian to be collateral damage. It was different with him. He was a friend. He knew that Jake and Armie wouldn't leave him if something got some negative press. Sebastian could. They were friends, not husbands. "Do you want another beer?"

"I have to walk home," Sebastian said, chuckling. "But yes. I would."

"I'll be right back," Chris said, making his way back into the house.

Armie was in the kitchen and pulled Chris close, kissing him and nuzzling his neck. "You good?"

"Better now," Chris said, feeling Armie's back. "Can you turn on the fire pit?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out there." Chris grabbed another bottle for Sebastian and went back out, Armie following a few paces behind him.

"Thanks," Sebastian said, truly grateful for the chance to relax. He watched as Armie flipped on the fire and pulled Chris down onto the lounger, wrapping his arms around him and smiling.

"You cleaned up your desk," Armie said, his lips grazing against the back of Chris' neck. "I know what that means."

"Maybe not," Chris said. "I'm taking things a little slower this time."

Sebastian scoffed and set his beer down. "You've got a title and an entire 'Rain Man' chart done. There's nothing slow about that."

"I’m having second thoughts," Chris sighed. "I don't know, really. We'll see." Armie's hands were coming up his sides, goosebumps coming up on his skin as they slipped underneath his T-shirt.

Armie let out a soft laugh when Chris pushed his hands away. "And we can't keep bailing on your mom. She's getting mad," Chris said, sitting up.

"She understands," Armie said. "We're both working."

"What are you doing for the kid's birthday?" Sebastian asked.

"Just his friends here at the house," Chris said. "Which makes us awful parents."

"One of his classmates had a petting zoo," Armie said. "And didn't another take us out on a boat?"

"We took his friends to Disneyland last year and the year before that we went to the Science Center," Chris explained. "I can barely keep my head on right now, so we're going to keep it easy. Wrangling one kid is okay, getting a group of them together is too much."

"Stop," Armie said. "You're great." His beard was longer than usual, tickling Chris' skin instead of the usual scratchiness.

"Do you need me to go?" Sebastian said.

"Want to watch?" Armie asked.

"That's my cue," Sebastian said, standing up. "Thanks for the food, thanks for the beer. I'll see myself out."

"You don't have to go," Chris said. "I need to talk to you about the show."

"Tomorrow," Sebastian said. "Your husband clearly has needs right now."

"I'm coming to set tomorrow," Chris said. "Do you want to drive together?"

"I'll be here bright and early," Sebastian said.

"Bye," Armie said, already back to kissing Chris' neck.

By the time Chris was in his office, the burn in his ass had faded to a dull ache and he felt a warm tingle all over. Armie had dozed off and Chris managed to free himself from those long limbs without waking the sleeping giant before retreating to his office. He lit the candle on his desk, stretched his arms up over his head, and yawned. He checked off his mental to-do list: emails done, checking in with the crew, looking through his notebook one more time, wondering if this Everest of an idea.

The glint of something in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he turned his head, seeing the gold gleam of his award shelf, all perfectly aligned thanks to Armie's near-constant babying of them all. He never ever felt like he lived up to most of them, especially the Oscar, sometimes the book awards, but right now, they were all weighing on him in a way he'd never felt before. Maybe it was Greg in the back of his mind. Maybe he really was just tired.

Chris looked over his notes again, sitting back and crossing his arms as he looked at the screen. It seemed so easy with it all mapped out like this. Connecting the dots shouldn't be hard. He'd earned the reputation of being all over the place. His books went from stark and minimal to Baroque and overstuffed. Either way, he managed to find his own voice and tell the stories the way he wanted. But as he got older and established himself, he noticed -- and his readers did, too -- that things got more straightforward. His last book was the longest yet and nobody seemed to mind.

He shot a quick email to David, letting him know that things were on schedule, but that he wasn't sure which direction to take the next book. He needed advice, because his outline seemed very serious, very personal, and possibly be too raw. He'd already written a book that hit too close to his real life, he wasn't about to do it again.

"Dad," Euan said from the door.

"Kiddo, you should be asleep," Chris said. He glanced at the time on his laptop. It was definitely past his bedtime.

"Can I sit with you?"

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"No," he said. Chris shut his laptop, regretting not putting more clothes on. "Head back to your bed, I'll be right there."

Euan gave him a soft smile and headed back towards his room. Chris blew out the candle and shuffled back to the bedroom, picking up a T-shirt from the floor and slipping on a pair of shorts. When he arrived in Euan's bedroom, he was under the covers, but very much still awake. The constellation projection was still on and Chris settled on the bed, rubbing Euan's back as he settled back in. He always forgot how magical it looked with the stars on the ceiling.

"Is everything okay?"

"You always tell me that when people say mean things, I should ignore it," he said. "But it makes me upset."

"They want to hurt your feelings," Chris said. "Don't let them do that."

"It hurts my heart when they say my parents didn't want me."

"You have two parents who do want you," Chris assured him, reaching up to give the back of his neck a scratch. "And we love you very much. Whoever is saying that to you is just being mean."

Chris paused for a second. "Do you hear that a lot? Do I need to talk to your school about it?"

Euan was silent for a second. "No."

"Focus on yourself, okay? You know in your heart that your daddy and me care about you more than anything. You came to us for a reason. We're a family."

It was all Chris could do. Reassuring him with words was one thing; he couldn't be at Euan's school all the time. All the books that Chris had read about adoption said to be prepared for this, but he hoped against all hope that things would be different for his kid. His school was full of adopted kids, surrogate-carried kids, and IVF kids. There was no escaping bullying and it broke Chris' heart. First, he was on the brink of losing his best friend and, now, this was coming up again and again.

"If anyone ever makes you feel upset, you just think for a few seconds before you do anything," he said in a soothing tone. "It'll be hard, but you have to do it."

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Promise me," Chris said. "You're going to be mad but take that time. Count to three or five or ten. Promise?"

"I promise," Euan said, sleep already creeping into his voice.

"I love you, kiddo," Chris said.

"Stay please."

Chris didn't say anything, just lifted the blanket and settled in, hoping that the promises were enough.

***

"Cute kid."

Armie glanced over, looking to see where the voice was coming from. It was a PA, clipboard in hand. "And your husband, too." 

Armie smiled. His phone screen was a photo of Chris and Euan at the beach from last summer, the both of them smiling, a wave crashing up behind them and Euan clinging onto his dad as the white spray splashed around them. Armie had to admit Chris looked great, all lean muscles and glints of lighter brown in his hair from the days and days they'd spend outside. "They're great."

"We're running behind," she said. "The lighting's just not right, so setup is taking a long, long time. Should we push it to tomorrow?"

Everyone on set knew there was a hard stop at 6 p.m. Armie had it written into his contract, but everyone on set also knew that sometimes, things just didn't go the way they were supposed to. "I think we can go over today," he said slowly as he tapped a message out on his phone. "Chris can handle it. Euan doesn't have a practice today."

"He has a cool name," she said, already sending a message to the rest of the crew.

"I like it a lot," Armie said. He was wrong. There was practice. Chris could handle everything except the soccer. Armie would have to let the other coaches that he'd be missing in action. Driving his son around was one thing. Coaching him was something Chris wasn't prepped for.

Armie was glued to his phone for a few more minutes, sending out last-minute emails and apologies. 

"They have entire conversations in Spanish and I'm just clueless," Armie said, not even checking to see whether or not the PA was still involved in the conversation. His smile got even bigger as the other coaches' responses came in. It felt great when things fell into place the right way. "Chris learned it all from an app and Euan's school books. It was crazy."

"They need you out on set in 10," she said, turning on her heels. She stopped after a few paces. "Have you thought about another one?"

Armie turned in his chair, his phone in his lap now. "Another kid?"

"You have a brother, right?"

"I do," Armie said. "But Chris is an only child. We haven't talked about a sibling for Euan."

"I have a sister. We're close," she said. "We always have been."

"My brother and I got into crazy fights," Armie said. "It wasn't until we were actual adults that we got along. We almost killed each other. And Euan's a handful. He's a very busy 7-year-old." It wasn't so long ago that they were watching Sesame Street together and going to the park to go on the swings. Then, it was swim lessons and the first day of kindergarten. Now, it was all practices, birthday parties, and a calendar that seemed way more complicated than his and Chris' put together.

"How long did you think about things before you adopted Euan?"

"Not long at all. It's how we are with everything. We got married and didn't plan it. We got in touch with the adoption agency and Euan was nothing like what we thought would come through for us. It all worked out."

"You don't plan at all?"

"I guess not," Armie said.

"Ten minutes. That should give you enough time to call him and say I love you and stuff."

Armie checked his watch. It was almost time to pick up Euan, so Chris would more than likely be holed up in his office or in the kitchen. Either way, he'd be sitting with his laptop open, tapping away. As much as he planned out his days and kept to a routine, it was obvious that some of the biggest decisions of his life had come without much in the way of planning.

'We're going to get fro-yo without you,' Armie read.

'Send me pictures.'

'He eats too fast to get a picture.'

'I'll make it home as soon as I can.'

'Don't worry about it.'

Straightening himself up, Armie smoothed his shirt out and set his phone down before making his way back to set. He stood behind the camera crew for a few minutes to take it all in. Having been on both sides of the camera, Armie's appreciation for the process of making a movie was deep. Being an actor had its own set of challenges, but directing and producing was a whole different world. 

"Hey, one more thing." It was the same PA.

"Yeah?"

"There's a woman in the crowd over there. An extra or maybe just someone who got into the soundstage, she's looking for Chris. We told her that he doesn't come to set, but she's not leaving."

"Can we call security?"

"I will. Just wanted to make sure she wasn't someone you knew."

Armie looked over, trying his best to be subtle. Nobody looked familiar. "Call. I'd know if anyone was going to be here."

***

"What are you doing out here so late?"

Chris turned towards Armie's voice, half-asleep with his computer still open on his lap, the battery level dangerously low. Chris shut it and rubbed his eyes. "Lost track of time," he said, his voice scratchy. It was the beginning of spring, but the nights were still chilly by L.A. standards. "Things go okay today?"

"Almost perfect," Armie said, coming over to sit down next to Chris. He leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. Everything felt slightly foreign with Armie's beard shaved down to stubble, but Chris reached his hands up, his fingertips lightly grazing Armie's jaw. "Better now."

"There's a form you need to sign in the kitchen," Chris said. "It's from Euan's school."

Armie ran his hands down Chris' arms, trying to warm him up just a little. "You okay?"

"No," Chris said, nuzzling his face into Armie's neck. "He's not keeping up in reading of all things."

"He's always been more about math...and soccer," Armie said, sighing. "What did the school say?"

"We don't know for sure," Chris said. "So, it's not going to get any easier. It could be something serious, but it could be that he's just not interested in reading and isn't trying."

"It's not the end of the world," Armie said. "We'll figure it out. It has nothing to do with you or me. I wasn't good in school, either." The irony wasn't lost on Armie. While Euan didn't mind being read to when he was younger, it wasn't his favorite thing these days. "Let's get you inside."

"You smell so good," Chris said, his hand rubbing Armie's stomach.

Armie let out a soft laugh. "It's your cologne."

"I'll get you a drink," Chris said. "Meet me in the office? I want to show you something."

"Anything for you," Armie said, pulling his sweatshirt off as he headed up, Chris watching his shoulders and back flex with every step, perfectly framed by his white tank top. All these years and he still couldn't get enough of those broad shoulders. He poured two fingers of scotch, added an ice cube, and followed Armie's path, his own heart beating a little faster than normal. It was amazing how Armie could make him forget about all his problems with something as simple as pulling his shirt off. It actually made him forget that his computer was out on the patio, so he rushed out to grab his laptop and made his way upstairs.

Armie was sitting on the sofa when Chris passed through the door. Chris handed him the glass and gave him a quick kiss. "This is what I made the kid for his birthday," Chris said, laptop open on his desk. He pulled up a few files as Armie sipped slowly, showing what looked like a comic book.

"I was reading to him," Chris said, stopping himself before he rolled his eyes. "And he was talking about having superpowers and how cool it would be, like any kid, I guess. So, I talked to David and he connected me with a graphic novelist and we came up with this."

Armie took another sip, the warmth spreading across his chest, and scanned the screen. His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled the computer onto his own lap. The pictures showed what was obviously a stylized version of himself, Chris, and Euan, made to look like a team of comic book heroes. Euan had a glowing soccer ball in one hand, Armie brandished a huge sword, and Chris had a notebook open and an archer's bow slung over his shoulder. As Armie's eyes darted from panel to panel, it looked like the trio was battling an army of zombies and robots.

"This is incredible," Armie said. "It looks amazing."

"I'm getting it printed like an actual comic," Chris said. "It's not too gory, is it?"

"I think it's awesome," Armie said. "Did you write the story?"

"It's nothing," Chris said. "Just us trying to save the world from a robot and zombie apocalypse."

"And how do we do that, exactly?" Armie asked as he scrolled through a few more pages. Everything looked so real, from the bar code on the front to the credits in the front. Even the paper felt like a real comic book.

"Two issues of chasing false leads, one journey of self-discovery, and a soccer ball slamming into an enchanted or cursed gem and ricocheting to destroy a super computer at the end of the fifth issue. That's all."

"That's all," Armie said, smiling. He shut the computer. "How are you so, so great?" He set what was left of his drink down and kissed Chris. "So great," he said again, pushing Chris down onto his back, the two of them struggling to fit on the loveseat. 

Chris let his hands slide up to Armie's shoulders, feeling the heat come off his body, getting lost in the kiss, Armie's tongue working against his own. Armie's hands went up under Chris' T-shirt, the rasp of his stubble against Chris' throat a new sensation compared to the usual scratch of Armie's beard.

"You taste good," Armie said. "Feel so good." His hands were all over Chris, feeling whatever skin they could. Chris kissed Armie deeper, his leg wrapping around Armie's. Armie slid off the couch, smiling up at Chris, his blue eyes sparkling. He pulled Chris' pants off, making short work of his briefs as Chris yanked his own shirt off. Armie took in his long, lean lines, his smooth skin and the soft flush. He was already hard.

Chris tossed his head back, one hand white-knuckling the back of the couch behind him and the other gripping Armie's head as he bobbed on his cock, all tongue and lips, wet and slick. Chris groaned as his toes curled and he bit his lip, trying to keep from getting too loud as Armie's hands rubbed his legs and tugged at his balls. Armie worked his mouth up and down, watching Chris' chest rise and fall, his breathing stunted as he let himself go, losing himself in all the sensations washing over him.

"Need me to slow down?" Armie asked, his voice husky. Chris was already shuddering. He shook his head and held tight to Armie's head with both hands, thrusting his hips, needing more of Armie's mouth and tongue, not bothering to keep from going over the edge. It felt too good, the combination of Armie's lips and tongue along with his hands, which massaged behind Chris' balls, pressing and prodding between rubbing and squeezing his balls. It was a dangerous combination that threatened to overload Chris' entire body and have him shoot without warning.

"Slow down," Chris said, his voice breathy and shaky. His hands scrambled on Armie's head, struggling to stave off his orgasm.

"We've got all night," Armie said, smiling. He kissed up Chris' body.

"Promise?"

"When have I ever let you down," Armie asked before kissing Chris hard. Their foreheads pressed together and Chris' pulled Armie as tight to him as possible.

"Then go all night."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I challenged myself to write an entire chapter from Euan's point of view. I failed. Halfway through, this will shift back to normal. This chapter also involves a time jump, as well. Subsequent chapters will not be following the conclusion of this one, but it's something readers have been asking for (and a few have been asking for less of). It should be pretty self-explanatory with the start of the next update. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

"Do you want yogurt or cereal?" Armie asked.

"Yogurt," Euan said, pulling a stool out at the kitchen island. He climbed up onto it, settling in as his daddy placed a bowl of yogurt in front of him, reaching over with his other arm to squeeze a dollop of honey on top.

Armie set out a Euan's lunchbox and started to fill it up with carrot sticks, grapes, and a stick of string cheese before starting on a salami-and-cheese sandwich. Euan watched as his daddy, who wasn't wearing a shirt and still didn't have a beard like he was used to seeing, packed everything up. "Dinosaurs or solar system?" Armie asked.

"Dinosaurs," Euan said, finishing up the last of his yogurt. Armie arranged everything in Euan's dinosaur-print lunch sack and tossed in a juice box.

"Water or juice?"

"Water," Euan said. Armie poured him a glass of water and sat down next to him, finally taking some time during their morning routine to get off his feet. Armie rubbed Euan's back and kissed the top of his head. They usually had about 20 minutes before they had to head out, unless Euan lingered in bed or dragged his feet while getting ready.

"How many more sleeps until Santa Barbara?"

"Two," Euan said quickly.

"Are you excited or nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," Euan said.

"Is your jacket down here?"

Euan nodded, jumping down off his stool and setting his bowl in the sink. He gathered his things, jacket included, and put everything on the bench by the front door, coming back into the kitchen to grab his lunch and get together everything for after school. "When dad and Seba come back, can you tell dad that I couldn't find my long socks? I need them after school."

"Blue or black?"

"Blue," Euan said.

"They're probably in the laundry," Armie said. "You should have more than one pair."

"My lucky pair is the one that's missing," Euan explained.

"Okay, I'll let him know," Armie said as he grabbed his phone. "I'll get dressed and we'll head out." 

"Aren't you going to eat your bread?"

"Your dad ate the last avocado last night," Armie said. "I'll get something when I come back."

The drive to school wasn't bad, especially if Armie managed to fly through every green light and there was a good rerun of "This American Life" cued up on his phone. Euan was always talking, asking about something he'd hear on the show or talking about practice sessions or games. Armie was always amazed that he could talk about anything and everything. It was a trait they both shared, Chris said. Euan had his eyes fixed out the window, watching the familiar sights of the route. He'd gone to the same school since kindergarten, seen classmates come and go, teachers move around. The scenery was always the same, however, whether his dad or his daddy drove.

Armie pulled into the lot and reached back to give Euan's knee a squeeze. "Be good, okay? I love you."

"I love you, daddy," Euan said. A teacher's aide opened the door and he grabbed everything from the seat beside him before hopping out. "Bye!"

"Chris is going to get him this afternoon," Armie told the aide through the open passenger window.

Euan walked past the manicured lawn, boxwood hedge, and groups of students before making his way through the front door. Caleb, his best friend, was notorious for being late. Euan knew better than to wait for him. Once he got to his classroom, he made short work of hanging up his backpack and setting his lunch in his cubby before slipping his jacket off and hanging it on the back of his chair. His teacher was sitting at her desk, greeting her students as they came in. Euan noticed she had a book open, spine up. He recognized the cover without even having to take a closer look -- it was one of his dad's.  
"Mr. Bingham," Euan said. "Can I show you something?"

"Good morning, Euan. What do you need me to see?"

"I found this in my dad's office," Euan said, handing over a pamphlet and what looked like a catalog.

Mr. Bingham glanced at the clock. There were a few more minutes, but his students were starting to file in. "Is this something that we can talk about during reading time?"

"Yes," Euan said.

"I'll keep these safe on my desk," Mr. Bingham said.

"You're reading my dad's book," Euan said, pointing to it. 

"I've read them all, almost," he said.

"Are they really all sad?" Euan asked, genuinely curious. All he'd ever heard about his dad's books was that they were for grown-ups. When he asked why, his dads and Sebastian told him that the books were too sad for kids, that they were very serious and, frankly, very long. Euan had a copy of the shortest one in his room, tucked into a shoebox with an old pair of cleats. He tried to read it, but his dads weren't wrong, the book was hard to read, had big words, and zero pictures.

"They are sometimes," Mr. Bingham said. "He has one that has a love story and a happy ending. But it'll be a while before you'll be ready to read any of them."

"Do you like my dad's books?"

"Very much. A lot of people do. You've seen him talk before, right?"

"He filled a whole theater," Euan said. He remembered every detail, from the sound of the crowd and the bright stage lights to the rush he felt when his dad held his hand, leading him out on stage. He'd knelt down to give Euan a tight hug and whispered in his ear, "I love you." He remembered his dad's expression, a combination of relief and pride, and his daddy's big smile. The three of them were on stage for less than a minute, but the feeling stuck with Euan, it was something he'd never forget.

"That's right. Head to your seat, we can talk about this later."

There were two lessons before reading: math and spelling. Euan loved math and the lessons always flew by. He felt anxious through spelling, which he didn't like as much as math, but endured because Caleb wanted to compete in the spelling bee. Euan didn't have any interest in that, but he did want to support his friend. If there was a way he could help, he would.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for him, recess was right after spelling. There was no soccer field for him to practice, but 20 minutes went by quickly and he usually filled the time with tetherball and a banana. It was hard to concentrate on anything today, so Euan actually felt relieved when they were all called back into their classrooms. Mr. Bingham had the classroom aide handle reading while he and Euan walked outside, sitting together on a bench.

"You said your dad had this at home?" Mr. Bingham asked, flipping through the catalog.

"Yeah. It's probably from Robbie. He is my dad's friend and he played for that team."

"This is a school that's just for boys that want to be serious soccer players," Mr. Bingham explained. "It's called an academy. It wouldn't start until you're in sixth grade."

"I thought it was a school just for soccer, but I didn't think that could be real."

"It's for kids who are very talented," Mr. Bingham explained. "And I know you are. Is this something that you'd be interested in?"

"Yes," Euan said without hesitation. "I want to go there."

"It's something you need to talk to your dads about," Mr. Bingham said. "This isn't something a lot of kids do. You'll be doing a lot of schoolwork on the internet, it won't be like the things you do here. It's a lot of soccer. It's to train athletes for the Olympics and to get young players into different leagues."

Euan didn't know what to say. He looked down at the glossy pictures. A second ago, he didn't think it could be true, but it was. His teacher confirmed his wildest dreams.

"Do you want me to talk to your dads about it? Do they know that you found this?"

Euan shook his head, suddenly reminded that he'd found those things while grabbing a new notebook from his dad's desk. He felt guilty for sneaking away with everything.

"I'm going to ask about this," Mr. Bingham said as he handed everything back to Euan. "I'm guessing you want to take this back home, right?"

"Yes, please," Euan said.

"Let's get back to class. We're going to keep talking about it, because you have time."

Euan did the math in his head. He was in third grade. Three more years and he could possibly be doing the things in that book. He didn't know how long it would take after that, but he knew that he was going to fill a stadium just like his dad filled that theater. The people there would be clapping and shouting and cheering for him, just like they did for his dad. He decided right there, under the bright California sun, that he'd do it, no matter what it took.

***

Euan managed to put everything back where he found it without either of his dads bringing it up. Either they knew and didn't want to talk about it or they were completely oblivious. Euan knew better than to assume the latter. If Mr. Bingham said anything to his dads, Euan never heard about it. When he went back to Chris' office, everything had been put away, but he knew exactly which drawer it was in and he came back to check on it every few days, just to make sure.

"You're getting really great on those free kicks," Armie said, genuinely impressed. Euan was extra focused on everything, making a point to absorb every critique and suggestion. Every kick felt more accurate and he ran harder, faster, and further than ever. He even jumped higher. 

One more kick and he dropped to his knees, genuinely exhausted. His newfound dedication was tiring, but he knew that being a serious athlete was tiring, too.

"I think that's enough for today," Armie said. The sun was starting to set and there was still homework, dinner, and a shower to fit in before bed. He started to gather everything they'd brought to the park, including tiny cones, a roll-out ladder for footwork, and way too many soccer balls in addition to a pop-up goal. It all went into a few bags and by the time it was all stowed away, Euan had caught his breath. "We can't tire you out like this when you've got stuff to do."

"I'm not tired," Euan said, even though it was clear he pushed himself pretty close to his limit.

"Does that mean you won't fall asleep in the car?"

"Our house isn't that far away."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Armie said. "C'mon. Your dad probably has dinner ready."

"Tacos?"

"It's Tuesday. What else would we have?"

***

Euan looked across the field, where his dad was talking to Caleb's. Something was wrong. He could tell by the way Chris's hands were crossed over his chest and the way Armie was glaring in their direction. Euan couldn't even remember the last time he saw Chris and Greg together. Now that he and Caleb weren't on the same team, their dads rarely met up on the field, except when Robbie and Caleb would stay to watch his games, which was almost every week. Greg stayed away.

"Don't worry about that," Armie said. "Keep warming up. Lead the team, okay? You know the stretches. I'll be back for the drills in a few minutes."

"Okay, daddy," Euan said, tearing his eyes away from what looked like an argument. He couldn't hear, but he knew from his own experiences that his dad was very good at being mad and staying quiet. It was almost scarier than when he got loud, which Euan had only ever seen him do on the phone. He'd never been on the receiving end of a raised voice from his dad.

Euan did as he was told facing the rest of his squad and leading the stretches, taking a few glances over his shoulder to see his dads and Greg together. Armie was back before Euan even finished their usual routine and when Euan scanned the perimeter of the field, Greg was nowhere to be found. Chris was wearing sunglasses and Euan couldn't put together any clues from his stoic expression.

"Is everything okay?" Euan asked as Armie arranged a few cones on the grass.

"We'll talk about it later, okay? Don't let it get in your head. Remember what we said about the mental part of the game?"

Euan nodded, letting his daddy's words sink in. When he was on the grass, when his cleats were digging and he was focused on one thing and one thing only, nothing else mattered but scoring goals. Winning. The world faded away. This could, too. Whatever his dad and Caleb's dad were fighting about didn't matter. Game day meant winning.

"You're a leader. Lead your team," Armie said. "I'm your coach right now, but I'll always be your father, too."

"Everything is okay, right?" Euan asked. One more try wouldn't hurt.

"Yes," Armie said. "Caleb's dad isn't supposed to be here. That's all. Just forget about it." The last thing Armie wanted to explain right now was the concept of a restraining order. 

Euan looked over one more time to make sure everything seemed okay. His dad had zipped up his leather jacket and straightened up, his posture tense and rigid. His dad was always wearing black. It made him easy to find if Euan was looking for him, but it made it easy for him to get lost in a crowd, too. But Euan always knew what to look for.

"Everyone here," Armie said. "Hands in. You've all been great at practice this week. Remember that we're here to have fun. Hands in and 'sharks' on three. One. Two. Three."

The sound of the referee's whistle was enough to have Euan's entire mentality change. For the whole game, he didn't have time to think about Caleb's dad or his own. He didn't have to think about his homework or how the other boys in class snickered at him. He was adopted. He had two dads. There were other kids that were adopted, other kids that had two moms or two dads. But he was the one that got the brunt of the jabs. It was fine with him. If it meant some of the other kids were getting less, he'd take it all.

He saw Sebastian on the sideline, too. He'd talked to him about it, begging and pleading for him to not tell his dads. Whether he did or not, Euan wasn't sure. If anything at school changed, he didn't notice it until it happened again. That stuff never happened on the grass. There, he knew what to do and what was expected of him. Goals. Winning. As long as his team was winning the championship today, nobody could touch him. If he won, Euan could finally say he was a champion and his dads wouldn't have any reason not to send him to the soccer academy. It was a blur. His heart raced and every time he kicked the ball towards the goal, his eyes shot over to where Chris and Sebastian were standing. He studied their reactions, their worried looks when he missed, the joy and excitement that they felt when he landed a goal right into the net. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he swore the world looked sharper, clearer. Everything just felt so perfect that when the final whistle blew and he saw his teammates rushing towards him, he let out a long breath like he'd been holding it in for the entire game. Finally. Through it all, he and his team had done it. The Sharks were number one. Euan found himself in a tangle of arms as they jumped up and down, cheering and yelling. It was hard being the youngest and being the one with the responsibility of scoring, but against everyone's expectations, Euan had done it. He'd seen it all the way through. He felt invincible.

"How do you get better and better every time?" Sebastian asked as he gave Euan a double high-five.

"Practice," Euan said, still coming down from the high of a win. It was a feeling he couldn't get enough of. He wondered if his dads knew how it felt. Chris had trophies and awards, but Euan didn't know if it felt the same as what was going through his body right now. A satisfying fatigue, his heart still racing, and his brain foggy with the satisfaction of putting in everything he could and getting the intended result. When the pieces came together, it made him so happy that he didn't even know if he could talk about it. He wanted to win a trophy for his daddy and he did. It was something they'd share forever.

"You were amazing, kiddo," Chris said, hugging Euan even though he was sweaty and giving him a kiss on the top of his head. "I'm so proud of you."

Chris congratulated all of Euan's teammates, giving them high fives and squeezing their shoulders as Euan soaked it all in. Even though they weren't in a stadium and it was just parents and siblings, the applause was loud and the cheers were louder. There was nothing more exhilarating.

"Team huddle," Armie said, raising his hand. "Everyone over here."

Euan watched his dad fade back into the crowd, congratulating the other parents and shaking hands. He was finally coming back down to earth, still soaking in the glory that came with victory. He didn't even hear what Armie was saying, but he felt his teammates' arms coming around him. The smiles were so big and Euan swore that if taking the championship trophy home was this good, he'd do anything for his team to feel it again.

As some of the parent volunteers gathered up the equipment, Euan chugged a bottle of water and had a few orange slices, grateful for the opportunity to cool down. After games, Armie had to fill out forms and get signatures from the refs. Chris usually hung back with Sebastian, but today, Euan saw him talking to the other parents, who looked concerned. Euan assumed it was about what happened before the game, since he was just as confused as they seemed to be. One day, everything was fine. The next, Caleb said awful things and they weren't friends anymore. Then, everything seemed to go back to normal, except Caleb's daddy G wasn't ever around. Nobody wanted to talk about it.

"Okay, kiddo," Chris said, kneeling down. "How are we celebrating tonight? You want pizza? The team says you can choose."

"Can we eat it at the beach?"

"Anything you want," Chris said, smiling. "You're man of the match, you're the golden boot winner, and I'm almost positive you're going to be MVP."

Euan threw his arms around his dad. "Is this real?"

***

There were four more championships. Euan tried his best at school, earning straight As in math and science and even raising his grade in English. It wasn't perfect, but it was better and, most importantly, his dads seemed satisfied enough. They never brought up the Los Angeles Galaxy Academy, but Euan talked about it with his teachers and his school counselor. He even asked Robbie about it. Nobody mentioned it until a week after the championship, when Chris told him they were going to look at a new school together, something that he and Armie had been talking about for a long time. Euan didn't have to ask any questions. He knew exactly where they were going.

"Do you want another coffee?" Chris asked Armie.

"Yes," Armie and Sebastian said simultaneously. Euan smiled and kept eating his breakfast, watching as Chris filled their mugs from the French press. Sometimes, he joked about having three dads, but Sebastian was always the first to clarify that a godfather wasn't the same thing.

"Can I have one of those grapes?" Sebastian asked Euan as he reached for the bowl in front of Euan. He'd been spending a lot more time at the house now that Chris was in semi-retirement. Together, they started a creative incubator that helped developing writers and filmmakers get access to studios and publishers. Euan didn't fully understand it, but after Chris' announced to everyone that he'd be taking a break from writing, he knew it was a big deal. Euan knew he didn't really stop. Chris was still scribbling in his notebooks all the time. Euan pushed the grapes towards his godfather. 

"You're allowed to be excited, kiddo," Chris said. "But I know you're nervous, too. We're going in to talk and take a look around. Meet the coaches, check out the computer labs. See if there are any actual teachers."

"Do I get to talk to the players?" Euan asked.

"I don't think so," Chris said. "We're going on a tour. Maybe you'll see someone you recognize."

"When are tryouts?" Euan asked.

"We'll talk about it in the car," Armie said.

"Are you coming, Seba?"

"Not today. I don't think you want an entire entourage coming with you. I'm pitching someone today, so I'll be over later to tell your dad about it. Good luck." He reached over to give Euan's shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be rooting for you like I always do."

The car ride was full of questions, most of which Chris and Armie had no idea how to answer. No pamphlets and websites could have given them the answers to everything Euan wanted to know. Not even Robbie, who had explained everything to them, was thorough enough. When they got to the stadium, they entered through a door that Euan had never been through before, leading into a lobby he'd never even known existed. It was amazing to him, since they'd come to see games so many times, that there was a whole part of this that he had never experienced.

"Try not to look so surprised," Chris said to Euan, his voice low as he signed them all in. Armie was admiring the photos on the wall, smiling at the people milling around. So far, there were no soccer players and no students. No parenting book could prepare him for this. There were no chapters devoted to what to do if your kid's dreams involved being an elite athlete and he happened to possess the talent to actually do it. No. There was way too much devoted to potty training and not nearly enough on special schools and unconventional approaches to education.

"Euan? Armie Hammer? Christopher? This way, please."

The three of them followed the counselor, who let the peek their heads into classrooms and explained everything that happened day-to-day. Thankfully, she did have the answers to Euan's questions, no matter how many he had. Chris had lost count, staying a few steps behind his son and his perspective counselor during the tour, shooting knowing glances Armie's way and hoping that this tour would make their decision a little easier. Chris was sure Armie had made up his mind. He wanted Euan to follow his passions, chase his dreams, and try everything he could. Mistakes, he said, were how people learned. If anything happened, Armie and Chris would be there to help. It wasn't exactly how Chris looked at things, but hearing it did warm his heart. 

Be the Best, Advance the Game, Make a Difference, and Respect All. Those were the first words they saw when they stepped into the academy, painted in big white letters above the door. They explored what felt like the bowels of the stadium, something completely separate from the buzzing excitement of the games they'd attended.

"How are you feeling?" Armie asked, leaning in as the two of them watched the counselor explained the breakdown of actual soccer to academic time to Euan. They'd have uniforms, but a little different from what he was used to. There would be travel when he moved up in age groups, help with getting into college, and maybe if he was one of the standouts, assistance in signing with a team, whether it was right here with the Galaxy, another team in the league, or even a team abroad. The only limits to where Euan could go were going to be determined by how hard he was willing to work.

"Scared. This is not normal."

"Since when has anything about us been normal?"

"He won't have prom if he does this. He won't have a normal life. We're going all in on this."

"He was never going to have a normal life. Look at us. What family has a three-time national champion at home? It would be a disservice to him if we didn't let him do this."

Armie was right. It would be heartbreaking to Euan if he had the chance to see this and ended up going to a conventional junior high school. He'd worked too hard to be stuck on a normal soccer team or stay on the club circuit. Chris nodded and they kept walking, staying a few paces behind Euan, whose eyes were wide with wonder, impressed by everything from the cafeteria to the locker room and weight room.

Eventually, Armie was walking beside Euan and Chris stayed a few paces behind. The campus, which included everything around, under, and near the stadium, was huge. Way bigger than anything Chris could have imagined.

"Christopher?" Chris turned around when he heard his name. Someone recognized him, but he didn't recognize that someone.

Armie, Euan, and the counselor all turned around at the commotion. "That's Geoff Cameron, he's the technical director for the senior team."

Geoff smoothed his hair back before shaking Chris' hand and coming around to shake Armie and Euan's, too, as they introduced themselves. "It's been a long time."

"A lifetime ago," Chris said, feeling slightly dazed and very much confused.

"Do you know each other?" Armie asked. Chris could feel him sizing Geoff up. Armie had a few inches on him, but Geoff was no slouch. It was clear that he kept up with the team's fitness regime even though he didn't tally any minutes on the pitch. Chris remembered his tattoos, which were on full display with Geoff's short-sleeved polo shirt. The Boston accent and big smile shot Chris back in time.

"Dad, you know Geoff Cameron?" Euan asked, his eyes somehow getting even bigger.

"We met when I played for Stoke," Geoff explained. "It was a long time ago. We were both two Americans in London that ran into each other. What's going on here? Prospective academy recruit?"

"Yeah," Chris said, still shocked by the coincidence. "We're prospective."

"Geoff handles everything behind the scenes for the first and second team," the counselor said. "From recruiting to personnel and the players' conditioning, he's got his hands in everything."

"So, it's up to you if I get in or not?" Euan asked.

"It's more than just me," Geoff said. "But I have seen your name before." He slowed down for just a second, glancing from Chris to Armie, "I didn't make the connection."

"I have so many questions," Chris said. "About this and just about everything."

"We need to stick to the schedule," the counselor said, glancing at her phone to check the time.

"You guys go ahead. I know Euan wants to see the fields. I'll take care of Chris," Geoff said. "Chris' questions."

"You're going to need clearance to get around back here," the counselor added.

"I'll handle it," Geoff said insistently. Chris froze in place, not sure exactly what was happening. The emotions came flooding back. Post-divorce, no inhibitions. Geoff was a walking, talking reminder that he had a life before Euan and Armie, a life he'd completely forgotten about. "I'll even get some swag for everyone."

"Wow, what a surprise," Geoff said as soon as everyone rounded the corner. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I followed you in the news, you know, as much as I could over there. Sort of dropped off when I came back."

"Not much to follow," Chris said.

"Enough," Geoff said, reaching up to squeeze Chris' shoulder. "Wow. Just wow. I never, ever thought we'd see each other again."

"My kid's pretty good," Chris said. "No, he's amazing. Tell me I'm not doing the wrong thing by enrolling him here."

Geoff smiled. "He'll be in good hands. I can't guarantee you anything since I haven't seen him play, but if he's gotten this far into the process, I'm sure he's better than 'pretty good.' Remember, if he decides that this isn't for him, he can still go to college. I did. Played here and in Europe. But these days, the kids expect to go pro right away. And if he's really good, he could. They're signing 16-year-olds."

"Crazy," Chris said. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Geoff looked Chris up and down. Even though it had been a long time, he recognized the energy that drew him in the first time they met. He couldn't even remember the last time he thought of Chris, aside from the very rare instances where he'd appear in a magazine or pop up on TV. Even when he moved back to America and settled in L.A., it was rare that someone who was so entrenched in sports crossed paths with someone who wasn't in the same circles.

"If he's an athlete, he knows what it's like to lose. It's part of the game. If you don't give him the chance to try this, that's where you run into regret."

As Chris walked alongside Geoff, players and coaches were giving him high fives and asking him quick questions. Chris was quiet, his brain still working. Armie was set, that wasn't even a question. For someone who went against everything his parents had planned for him, having his son follow his passion was the obvious answer. Chris wanted that, too, but he wasn't so gung-ho about everything. There was risk involved. As promised, Geoff led them to a room full of promotional items and Chris watched as he filled a pair of tote bags with baseball caps, jerseys, and scarves. 

"He doesn’t...well, you guys, I mean, don't have to make up your minds right now," Geoff said. "He's got time. But I'm guessing he's the one that's impatient."

"Do you have kids?" Chris asked.

"No," Geoff said. "But if you're asking if I'd want my life for any kid I would have, I couldn't answer that. We're all different. I wouldn't change anything. Except maybe not convincing you to spend a few more days with me way back when," he said, winking. 

"It worked," Chris said. "I was over him after that trip. At least, I thought I was."

"Happy to be of service," Geoff said. "I'll make sure to get you my info. Call me if you have any more questions. I'd love to see your kid play and if everything works out, I'm guessing I'll see you and your husband around here pretty often."

Chris leaned in for a hug, wrapping his arms around Geoff's chest and feeling the tight muscle underneath. "Do you still shave your legs?" Chris asked.

"Stopped doing that the day I retired," he said, smiling. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."

***

"So, you hooked up with a professional soccer player and you neglected to tell me?" Armie asked, pulling Chris down onto the couch. His hands ran up under Chris' shirt and he placed tiny kisses on Chris' neck. "You know I want to hear all about it."

"Euan's probably too excited to sleep," Chris said, ignoring the previous statement. "He's probably planning his goal celebrations for when he's on ESPN."

"We have to do it," Armie said. "It's what he wants. It's what's going to get him into the big leagues."

"I'm scared for him," Chris said, holding Armie's hand in his own, looking up at the ceiling and wondering just how much heartache a kid could take before he just gave up and went into accounting. Euan was so, so different from anything he'd ever known. Chris' whole life was orbiting around creativity and intangible things like imagination and fantasy. Euan's whole life revolved around the physical act of soccer.

"I know what it's like to be a golden boy," Chris said. "I was in my 20s though, not 12. And I don't think I ever really lived up to my expectations. It was all down from those glory days."

"Hey," Armie said. "I came after those glory days. That TV show came after -- Christopher Hammer the producer was after. The dad. That came after your big break, too. It wasn't downhill."

"Do you think he'll be happy?"

Chris chuckled and Armie could feel his stomach muscles flexing. "He's never happier than when he's on that stupid grass getting all sweaty and gross."

"You know, Stanford has a great soccer team," Armie said. "And I'm pretty sure he knows someone who could put in a good word there. College isn't pro, but if it's what he wants to do, I don't think he'll mind."

"Are we already thinking about where he's going to college?" Chris asked. "Can we slow down?"

Chris gripped Armie's hand and sighed, feeling the steady rhythm of Armie's heartbeat against his back. It shouldn't have surprised him. He was known for sticking to plans and routines, but when Armie got through all that, everything was different, from the way they got together to the way they got married and even to the way they adopted Euan. Everything was just a tiny thought that happened to snowball at the exact right time for them to just look at each other and dive in, no questions asked, no looking back. Now, there was someone else involved and Chris couldn't imagine having Euan, who he loved so, so much, be a stowaway on one of these wild whims. This was Euan's life, not theirs.

"Daddy? Dad?"

"You're supposed to be in bed already," Chris said over his shoulder. 

"I know you're talking about me," Euan said, still hovering halfway between the kitchen and the living room. The back doors were open, like they always were, and he could smell the familiar scent of ocean brine and night-blooming jasmine.

"We're almost always talking about you," Armie said.

"Dad, that was really cool. Everything about it."

Chris sat up, shuffling to the other side of the couch, his feet settling in Armie's lap. "Kiddo, I know you're excited," Chris said as he shuffled again, his eyes locking with Armie's as he sat up straighter. 

"I've known about the Galaxy Academy since I was seven. I found the papers in the office. I've been thinking about it forever."

Armie raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And I talked to Robbie about it. I talked to Seba about it."

"Why didn't you talk to us about it?" Armie asked, motioning for Euan to come closer.

"I don't know," Euan said, sitting down across from his dads. "It's why I worked so hard. I thought that if I was good enough, I could go."

"You're more than good enough," Chris said. "And I know, and your daddy knows that you work so, so hard." He paused. "We did everything we needed to do. You'll be going in September."

Euan froze. "Are you for real? I don't have to try out or anything?"

"You do," Chris said. "But I don't think you'll have a problem impressing the academy president and the coaches. They said that they've scouted you. Geoff said your name was on a list."

Euan looked like he was about to bounce out of his own skin. Armie got up off the couch and pulled him into a hug and Chris got up to join them, arms tangled together. "I'm so proud of you," Armie said. "All the hard work. All the practice."

"You're too excited to sleep now, aren't you?" Chris asked.

"Can I call Seba?"

"You think he doesn't already know?" Chris asked, smoothing back Euan's hair. "Everyone's very excited. Except maybe your grandma."

"She'll come around," Armie said quickly before giving Chris' ribs a poke.

"This is amazing," Euan said. "The most amazing thing that's ever happened."

"You still want to call Sebastian?" Chris asked

"Yes," Euan said. "He didn't think you'd actually do it."

***

Armie stomped into the kitchen and poured himself two fingers of scotch, rubbing at his temples a little bit before he added another splash. Only his mother could manage to make him feel like a failure as a dad and a son at the same time. A year after they'd enrolled Euan into the academy, she was still reminding Armie that the school she'd have preferred him to go to, Harvard-Westlake, basically guaranteed a path to the Ivy Leagues. She neglected to mention that Jake Gyllenhaal was one of the school's notable alumni. She also always forgot that Euan had no interest in the Ivies. Now that college was on the horizon, Chris was looking into athletic programs as much as he was researching engineering curriculums.

"He's never heard the word 'no,'" Dru had said. "You spoil him more than I've ever seen anyone do. You humor every indulgence and let him live in a fantasy."

The words hit hard.

"Do you really think he can be a professional athlete?" she continued. "It was cute when he was younger, but now it's serious. You can't cut off so many opportunities to chase one."

It was all so familiar. It was what she'd told him when he wanted to go into acting. The same argument they had decades ago was happening now. Dru had the same ammunition, but she had a new target.

"Mom, we've put a lot of thought into this. We've asked more people that you could imagine. Coaches. Players. Trainers. They all think he's special."

"Every kid is special these days." Her voice was filled with anger and disappointment. It hurt Armie so deep inside he couldn't recall ever feeling this awful. "You're setting him up for heartbreak. What is he supposed to do after being a failed footballer? This school won't prepare him for anything."

"Okay mom, that's enough," Armie said, his hands up in mock defeat. "If you're not going to support this, I'm not going to change your mind. I love you, but don't expect any more Friday dinners if this is how you're looking at Euan's future." He didn't even see the look of surprise on his own mom's face as he left her house, promising himself he'd never, ever let anyone say those things about his son.

One sip in, Armie already felt himself calming down. He could hear Chris shuffling around upstairs, probably oblivious that Armie got home a few minutes earlier than he'd expected. Euan was thriving. That's what Armie had to focus on. He had what Armie didn't: direction. Plus, he had the skill and ambition to follow through. It was foreign to Armie, who had coasted through most of his life. Any challenges were speed bumps and he coasted through everything, whether it was finding a way to snag a film role or knowing the right people. That changed when he met Chris, maybe a little before when he realized he wasn't getting the right kind of movies. But now, he saw that hard work and dedication weren't just fodder for inspirational quotes. He saw it all in his son, who was the most honest and loyal person he'd ever met.

Another longer sip and the warmth spread through Armie's chest.

"Already that time?" It was Sebastian.

"Are you guys all done?"

"Are we ever?" Sebastian asked, stretching his arms. "There's always stuff to do."

"Isn't that the truth," Armie said, polishing off his drink. "What's the likelihood that you two are going to make out today?"

"You're the only person I know that gets horny when they're frustrated," Sebastian said. "You might need therapy for that."

Armie chuckled. "Deflecting is my specialty."

"Why is she taking so long to come around this time?"

"Who knows?"

Armie turned his head when Chris appeared in the doorway, wearing skinny black jeans and a faded grey T-shirt that was probably black before it got washed a hundred times. His hair was cropped short now, doing its usual swing from James Dean pompadour to tidy crew cut. Just like Dru's unpredictable mood, Armie never knew what triggered Chris to buzz his hair short when he'd taken the time to grow it out. Armie bit his lower lip at the sight.

"We got our first TV deal," Chris said triumphantly. "Cassidy Aruzzo's pilot got picked up at Fox and we've got a 10-episode run with an option for a second season. She's losing her mind, she's so excited."

"Wow," Sebastian said. They'd managed to get a handful of book deals and even movies, but this was the first time any of their writers got something like this. "That's huge." 

"I think we deserve the rest of the day off," Chris said. "We can all go pick up Euan and go to that barbecue place by the stadium. And if he doesn't have homework, we can hang out at the beach."

"Don't get too wild," Armie joked, closing the space between them and giving Chris a kiss. His hand ran up Chris' side and he pushed him back against the doorframe, doing everything he could with his body to completely envelop Chris, shut the entire world out. He pulled away when he heard Chris let out a soft whimper and glanced over at Sebastian. "Anything?"

"I'm so used to seeing you two," Sebastian said. "It's like seeing a pop-up ad online. Completely tune it out."

"What are you guys talking about?" Chris asked.

"Don't worry about it," Armie said, planting one last quick kiss on Chris' lips.

Sebastian wandered the courtyard outside of the stadium office, knowing that Euan lingered after school, either to gather his things or to talk to his classmates. It was a small group, to say the least. There were only about 30 kids enrolled in Euan's age group and only three or four groups altogether. There was a huge statue of David Beckham taking a free kick, a circle of tall palm trees, and a very quiet parking lot. When it wasn't game day, the only people on campus were the pros, the trainers, and anyone involved with the team. Compared to the 24,000 spectators that descended on the arena when there was a game, this was nothing.

He looked over at Chris, deep in conversation with Geoff, who talked with his hands as much as he did with his voice. 

"You know I used to carry you in my arms," Sebastian said when Euan walked up, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He was tall now, hitting something like 5-foot-7, his dark hair growing in a relaxed wave and his complexion dark from spending so many hours in the sun. Against Chris and Armie's wishes, Dru had submitted Euan's spit for a genealogy panel, which revealed that he was part Argentinian, which she assumed was what gave him dark, almost-black hair, and part Scottish, which accounted for his name and maybe his height. Chris and Armie didn't know any of it and preferred not to. As far as they were concerned, it didn't matter. Dru had told Euan, who didn't seem that interested.

"Is daddy parking the car?"

"He's talking to the secretary to order you more pants," Sebastian said, pointing at Euan's ankles. His school-issued pants were just a hint too short, something that was becoming more and more common.

"Do you think I'll be as tall as he is?"

"You can never tell," Sebastian said.

"They're talking about Florida," Euan said, switching his backpack to the other shoulder. "And then Houston. We have a tournament."

"What are you talking about? I have your schedule on my fridge. There's nothing about that."

"They told me today," Euan said. "It's for the national youth team."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, it's a big deal."

"No kidding," Sebastian said. "It's a huge deal." He pulled Euan into a hug, patting his back. "They're going to be so excited. Super proud. I am."

Geoff and Chris walked over together, a huge smile on Geoff's face and Chris' expression a combination of trepidation and pride. It was starting to be his usual demeanor when it came to Euan.

"Guess who jumped two weeks ahead in their schoolwork just in time for a national tournament?" Chris asked rhetorically.

"Not everything," Geoff clarified. "But he won't be falling behind. When they go to away camp, they still have to do their online coursework."

"Can you handle two weeks away from your dads?" Geoff asked. "Well, a week there, a week back, and then a week in Houston."

"You played in Houston," Euan said.

"It wouldn't be the first trip away," Chris explained. "He's done a few camps. He's never homesick."

"It's like you've been prepping him for this his whole life," Geoff said.

Chris and Armie knew there was a strict no-parents rule when it came to these things. It was part of preparing the kids for life on the road. It was where a lot of families got their first taste of reality — going to weekend AYSO games and even traveling a few hours away for club games like Armie and Chris had to do was one thing, but knowing that the kids were a continent away was something some parents just couldn't deal with.

"We've got lots to celebrate today," Chris said. He turned to Euan and Geoff, "Seb and I signed a big deal. Our very first TV show."

"That's huge," Geoff said. "Congratulations." He pulled Chris into a heart hug just as Armie came and joined everyone, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow on all of them.

"Everyone good?" Armie asked.

"Amazing," Euan said, smiling up at his dad.

"It's still a little early for dinner," Armie said.

"Practice fields are open," Geoff said, looking to Euan. "I'll get my cleats. You guys are more than welcome to go up into the club, tell them I sent you."

"I'll watch," Chris said. "I don't know how much longer I'll get to see him without a crowd around."

Over dinner, Geoff explained to everyone exactly what Euan would be doing, where he'd be going, and what could happen if he had the skill to move forward. It was everything Euan had ever dreamed of and he soaked it up as Chris watched his face, his expression rapt as he hung on everything Geoff said. Armie held Chris' hand under the table, both of them wondering if they were prepared for this to happen so soon. It was happening way too fast. None of the other parents they knew were going through anything even remotely similar. They were thinking about music lessons and sports were still for fun, not anything on the level that Euan was reaching. And just like Euan was just going along with what he felt in his heart, Chris and Armie felt like they were diving into it, thankful that they were doing it together.

"Did you know anything about soccer when you met Geoff?" Sebastian asked.

"I still don't know anything about soccer," Chris said.

"You know everything about it," Euan said, feeling a little embarrassed that his dad would say something like that in front of Geoff Cameron, an actual soccer legend that happened to be one of his coaches. "You read the rule book when I was in AYSO."

"Geoff actually explained a lot to me. I went to a game or two while I was over there. It was cool."

"It's a little different than the games you go to here," Geoff explained.

"We took him to a game when we went to Spain," Armie said. "That was wild. And we've gone to games in D.C., right? New York. A few places."

"Not England, though?" Geoff asked. "With a name like Euan, you haven't gone to the U.K.?"

"I actually haven't been back since the time I met you," Chris said. "Some bad memories there. Good ones, too, but you know how bad ones are what you end up remembering. Armie's gone for work plenty of times."

Euan couldn't believe that his dad knew someone so famous. Sure, everyone thought that his dads were famous, but it wasn't the kind of famous Euan cared about. It was amazing that his godfather was an actual superhero, but his dad wrote books. His daddy made movies that were serious and boring. Knowing someone who played soccer all over the world, that went to an actual World Cup, and was the coolest coach he ever had.

Armie watched Euan look up at Geoff with an admiration he'd never seen before. It was cute. Meeting heroes was usually a bad idea, but it was clear Euan had someone to idolize that had actually lived what he dreamed. Chris and Armie couldn't compete with that, especially when Geoff's whole job was to encourage Euan to be the best possible player he could be.

Euan, Armie, and Sebastian went to the patio to toss the beanbags on the cornhole court while Chris and Geoff sat inside, talking about how to navigate the next month and the possibility of things getting even more hectic. The conversation moved to Robbie, who Geoff knew about through the game, and logically to Greg. Chris explained the fallout, the subsequent lawsuit, and then the restraining order, which stated that Greg couldn't be near Chris, Armie, or Euan after he threatened to leak Chris' story and blackmail him for a payout. It was a secret for the most part, because Armie and Chris hired the best lawyer they could. Discretion didn't have a price -- and that was important when there were kids involved. Geoff listened intently, fascinated by every detail, his eyes sweeping from Chris' face to the boys out on the patio.

"This is it," Geoff said. "He's going to get a taste of competing and there's no going back."

"There was no going back, ever," Chris said. "I knew when he was six or seven that he wasn't going to be like other kids."

"You can trust me," Geoff said. "I want him to succeed just as much as you and Armie."

"You have no idea how much he looks up to you," Chris said. "He's so lucky. Armie and I are so lucky." Chris reached over to hold Geoff's hand. "Thank you. You've made this whole thing so much easier."

"Nobody's made me feel better about it than you guys. I was about to leave, to be honest. Go back to Boston. Euan's energy was just too big to ignore. He's good for the team, the academy, and for me."

"That's a lot of pressure for a teenager," Chris said. 

"He can handle it."

***

"I can see our old seats from here," Chris said, pointing down to the grass. Armie looked over his shoulder, nodding. They were higher up than they'd ever been at the stadium, perched in a suite perched right above the center line that was reserved for the players' families and guests. Chris felt Armie's arm come around his waist and his chin rest on his shoulder.

"You look good with my name on you," Armie said.

"It's my name, too," Chris said. They were both wearing Euan's jersey, HAMMER arched across their shoulder blades above the number 7. He'd signed with the team at 16 years old, their second-youngest signing, ever, by just a few weeks. Geoff had been right, though. As soon as he hit 16, the offers came rolling in from Mexico and Japan, even a few clubs in Europe, but because Euan was developed on American soil, there were perks to staying with domestic teams. Geoff had outlined everything for them and Euan sincerely didn't want to be on any other team. This was where he grew up, he'd said, and since he'd played in dozens of cities across the country and even a few abroad, he knew that he wanted to stay. So, at 16, he'd made his first professional debut in the second game of the season. At 16, he stayed on the bench the entire time. 

Today would be the second time his name appeared on the lineup, but he was still relegated to the bench. He wasn't a starter and as much as he wished he was, he knew that he was too young and inexperienced at this level. He was satisfied to soak it all up from the sidelines for now. Nobody else that he played with in AYSO was signed to a team. He was the only academy student to get drafted this year. His classmates were on their way to college-level soccer or the second division. He was the only one -- and that felt good. 

"There he is," Chris said, eyes locked on Euan's tiny figure on the grass, warming up on the sidelines with the other reserve players. 

There was a fire that came with the announcement. Armie noticed it instantly. He was a bona fide pro now and he carried himself differently. He took everything more seriously, from his driving lessons -- he'd gotten a shiny black hard-topped Jeep for his 16th birthday -- to his schoolwork and even his diet. Euan knew how much his dad loved routine, but his own life was a regimen. He was told what to eat every day, had a strict schedule of workouts, practices, and schoolwork, and barely had any time to socialize. IT was tough, knowing that he was a kid on a team of grown men, but every time they slapped him on the back or told him he was doing everything right, it was worth it. He was on his way to the Youth World Cup. He had represented his country, which was something some of his teammates couldn't even say they did. Euan thought he'd feel completely left out, but during the season, the players all lived spartan lives. There wasn't much partying going on, everyone was focused on playing and recovering, and on off-days, Euan had school, he wasn't going golfing with the other guys or hanging out at the pool. He was still living with his parents. He read the stories in the newspaper that said he was the league's hottest star, that he was ushering in a youth movement, but in his heart, all he wanted to do was play.

Outside of the stadium, the whole situation was so strange to Chris and Armie. Euan was 16. He wasn't allowed to talk to the media unless it was sanctioned by the team. Even then, Geoff had to be there with him. Chris and Armie weren't allowed to talk to anyone about Euan, either. It was a relief, on one hand, and on the other, Chris had never experienced something so controlled.

"Think he'll play today?" Armie asked.

"I hope he will, for his own ego. He's not getting minutes. He feels lost." Chris wondered if it would have been better for him to play second-division soccer and at least get some time on his stat sheet.

"He's been good at practice. When the time is right, he'll get called in." It was the president of the team, Alexandre, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. They'd met a dozen times, mostly to discuss how they were going to frame Euan's narrative. He was nice enough, but Chris and Armie could tell he was all business.

He was a local boy, but he was also the kid with two high-profile dads. There was nothing in any playbook about this. Euan's success was predicated by what he did on the grass, but his story was making headlines, too. Armie Hammer's kid was a professional athlete. Christopher Hammer, Pulitzer Prize-shortlisted writer, was raising the next big thing in American soccer, a sport that was always trying to grow. This was huge. People that had no interest at all in soccer were paying attention now, because of a name they knew from movies and books.

"I feel confident. I feel ready and I feel like I can compete.” It was the quote accompanied every single thing that was written about Euan. Chris knew that it was all true. He just wished there was more protection than just shin guards. He'd seen guys get stepped on, get tripped, and worse, break bones and tear things. Euan had been lucky so far.

"It's always great to see you at the games. Everybody loves it," Alexandre said, his French accent coming through. "Next time, we'll get you field side."

"I think it's fine up here," Chris said. "We appreciate it."

"The suite is more than enough," Armie said, reaching out to shake his hand. "We've been fans his whole life. This is all very, very generous."

"No need to thank us. This is a story that sounds like a Hollywood film," Alexandre said. "It's real life for your son. He's an inspiration to every little boy watching. I read that you have a new movie coming soon?"

"Yes, actually," Armie said. "Starring, directing, the whole thing. It's exciting."

"It's wonderful to see so much success in one family," Alexandre said. "Phenomenal."

Chris turned his attention back to the grass, watching the seats fill up and the energy in the stadium buzz. It was different up here. He didn't know what it felt like for Euan, but he had a feeling it had to feel good. Armie's conversation faded in the background as Chris watched the scene unfolding below. Euan had worked his entire short life for this and Chris considered it an honor to have seen it all. The sun was setting. The air was fresh and clear. It was the perfect evening for soccer.

"You okay?" Armie asked, his hand going to its usual spot on Chris' back.

"Something feels different today."

"Different with him or with you?"

Chris shrugged. "Just different."

"Want something to drink?" 

"I'll get it," Chris said, turning around. He needed a distraction. "You want a beer?"

"Yes," Armie said. He motioned to the one row of seats outside the suite, "I'll be out there."

There weren't a lot of parents in the suite. And the few that did come to the games were usually older. It was a mix of girlfriends, friends, and players from other teams that happened to be in town. Chris and Armie enjoyed anonymity at the stadium, which was a place where Euan outshined both of them.

"There's a rumor going around that you're writing a book about soccer moms," Chris heard. It was one of the players' wives. There was definitely at type: models, singers, physical therapists. This one was none of the above. She was an entertainment lawyer and they'd spoken before, mostly in passing, though Chris preferred her company to the models.

"That'd be fake news," Chris said, grabbing his seltzer and Armie's beer from the bar. "I'm not working on a book right now."

"I know that much is true," she said. "But I also know someone who does contracts at Penguin. You're on the schedule this year."

"It's not about soccer moms," Chris said. He lowered his voice, "It's actually about a kid in foster care that's looking for his family."

"That sounds more personal than anything you've ever done. Trust me, I've read them all."

"Thank you for that," Chris said. "But this is all fiction. Adopting Euan just showed me how tough the whole thing is for families. That's all. Nothing else is that whole art-imitates-life thing."

"Good to hear that you're coming back," she said. "It's been too long."

"Retirement was never really going to be retirement for me," Chris said. "I don't know who I was trying to kid with that."

"I'll be waiting," she said, raising her glass of chardonnay. "Good luck to you and Armie tonight. I can't imagine what you guys go through if my heart races the way it does every time I come to these games."

"Here we go," Armie said, taking the beer from Chris and settling in. The ref's whistle blew and down below, the crowd and players were ready for action. Geoff, just like he'd done last time, looked up at them and gave them a thumbs up.

***

Euan's heartbeat thumped in his ears and his lungs burned as he dragged his body off of the grass. The smell filled his nose, a combination of green, dirt, and sweat. Every color in his field of vision seemed super-saturated, extra bright, and vibrant. He looked up at the clock. Two minutes left. 120 seconds. He could do anything for two minutes. He raised his hand, letting his teammates know everything was fine. He'd only been on the field for a minute before he got slammed. He looked over at the defender, who was leering at him. It was someone he admired, but there was nothing honorable about poor sportsmanship. Euan shook it off and got back in position. The team's striker, its superstar, one of the biggest names in soccer in the entire world, had gotten injured. The game was tied. He was told to run down the clock. The tie was fine. Euan shook the thought out of his head. He wanted to win.

The ball flew by, going from man to man. The collision had earned them the ball, so that was a plus. Euan watched, shuffling to where he needed to be. The guy who'd collided with him was still sneering, but Euan ignored him. Defenders were generally slow. He wasn't. He dug his cleats in and sprinted, catching the man who was marking him off guard. That sudden burst was all it took. Euan got into the right place at the right time and he knew that he found that hole because everyone on that field was underestimating him. The players wouldn’t give him the time of day. The crowd was cheering, the sound deafening by design, with the curve of the stadium's canopy bringing all the cheers right down to the grass. Euan saw the ball blasting in his direction and he went for it, kicking high, whipping his whole body up just like he'd practiced since he was in AYSO, the just-for-fun bicycle kicks he'd done a million times on a trampoline, and the ball sailed in, the goalie diving in vain and everyone on the field freezing in their tracks. The world stopped as Euan looked up at the sky. He couldn’t tell if it went in or not as he scrambled to get back on his feet, but before he could even get his bearings, he was being carried up, almost tossed into the air by his teammates. The shouting was so loud and he couldn't even wrap his head around what had just happened. He didn't even get to do his goal celebration.

He landed on his feet at the corner of the field, everyone hugging him patting his back, congratulating him on that picture-perfect play. It was unreal. He looked up at the suites, where he knew his dads were sitting, where they were jumping up and down and shouting as loud as they could, and Euan pointed up there, tears filling his eyes as he pounded the crest on his chest, right over his speeding heart. He pointed up there one more time and pumped his fist in the air, letting out a breath that felt like he'd been holding forever.

The extra time went by like a blur, with the Galaxy just passing long shots around their half, Euan still in a daze as he watched the ball arcing in the air. The whistle couldn't come fast enough. When it did, the entire stadium erupted in cheers and his teammates rushed at him one more time, practically dogpiling on top of him. This wasn't how he imagined his first game or his first goal as a professional player, but tomorrow, when his picture would be on the first page of the Los Angeles Times' sports page, right above the fold with the headline "The Future Is Now," recounting the boy wonder slamming in a game-winning goal with an against-all-odds bicycle kick, he'd realize this was exactly how it was supposed to go.

Chris was wrapped around Armie so tight that he was sure that there'd be marks on Armie's back. Shouting and jumping, the rush of seeing what had transpired filling him with adrenaline. Armie's heart was pounding and everyone in the box was congratulating them. It was unbelievable. Sebastian would tell them the next day that the TV cameras were pointed up toward them, with Armie's wide-eyed expression summing up everyone's shock and awe. It was a fairy-tale ending for the game, a debut for Euan that would see him on ESPN, and a huge statement to anyone who thought that he'd gotten his spot on the team because of his last name. As the crowd's cheers died down and the stadium started to empty out, Euan pointed to his dads one more time. 

"I did it," he mouthed, bewildered and exhilarated. 

"That's our kid," Armie said, his forehead pressed against Chris'. "Did you see that? It was like a goddamn movie."

"That was unbelievable," Chris said. "He did that."

Chris and Armie's phones buzzed the entire time they waited for Euan to emerge from the locker room. When he finally did, he ignored the throng of reporters who, before tonight, never paid him any attention. He couldn't talk to them, anyway. He made a beeline for his dads, who always waited around the corner, a few steps away from everyone else. Just like always, Chris had his arms around him in no time at all and Armie's were around the two guys who meant more to him than anyone else in the entire world.

"You were amazing," Chris said.

"Nobody is going to ever forget that," Armie said.

"I still can't believe it happened," Euan said, his voice shaky. "I thought I would be yelling and screaming but I feel tingly all over and I still can't believe it."

"Believe it," Armie said. "We saw it. Everyone saw it."

"I saw it on the jumbotron," Euan said. "I still can't believe it."

"Let's head out," Armie said.

"Come with me," Euan said, grabbing his dads' hands. "It's already later than usual." 

The three of them walked in silence as Euan walked them through the tunnels and back towards the field. When they got there, Euan stopped right where the grass started and closed his eyes, just feeling everything around him. It was different now.

"It keeps going," Chris said, his voice soft. "Your dad and I, we both know. You won this one. There's a game next week. There's one after that. You have practice tomorrow. Everything keeps going."

"Is this how it feels when you put out a movie or a book?" Euan asked. "Like the whole world wants more and you don't know how, but you want to do it?"

"That's it," Armie said. "Exactly that."

"Does it ever go away?"

"Not that I can tell," Chris said, reaching over to put his hand on Euan's shoulder.  
"I love you both so much," Euan said. "I know you put everything on hold for me. The guys always say how lucky I am. I can't say thank you enough."

"We're your dads," Armie said. "It's what we're supposed to do."

"You do way more," Euan said. "And I want you to know that it wasn't for nothing."

"There are miles to go before we're done," Chris said, looking over at Euan and Armie, the stadium lights finally shutting off.

"Thank you," Euan said. "For everything you did for me. Tonight was a dream come true."

"Don't get too smug." The three of them turned around to see Geoff standing in the tunnel, his arms crossed. "Enjoy tonight, but tomorrow, you're back here in regen. It's only week two. There's a whole season ahead. It's back to business."

\---

Feedback - breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	9. Chapter 9

Note: Back to our regularly scheduled programming. Apologies for the delay.

She had dark hair. Wavy, dark hair. Armie couldn't place her and it really bothered him. He prided himself on never forgetting a face, so it was probably someone he'd genuinely never met before. She'd been escorted off of two different locations, but she was harmless. There was technically nothing wrong with loitering, but she stayed longer than anyone should have and didn't ask for anyone involved with the production. Security told her Chris didn't come to set, especially when they filmed on location. There was no reason to worry just yet, but Armie didn't have a lot of experience with stalkers. Maybe it all started out this way? Maybe he should stop listening to podcasts about murder. It wasn't a big enough deal for him to remember it when shooting wrapped for the day. He'd gotten good at compartmentalizing, especially when he was behind and in front of the camera for a project. He had to take himself out of character when he was directing. It actually made the process easier, even though everyone looked at him like he was crazy when he brought it up.

Armie leaned against the counter, watching as Chris assembled dinner and listening to Euan's steady flow of stories from science class and Spanish class. He chuckled when Chris would stumble through a sentence or two and Euan laughed, correcting his own dad. Chris' jeans were riding low on his hips, enough to show a sliver of his underwear when his shirt rode up with the movement of his arms, and Armie was using all of his willpower not to trace a fingertip around that millimeter of skin while he nibbled the back of Chris' neck.

"Okay. So, this is sage and brown butter chicken with root vegetables and broccoli," Chris said as he set a plate down in front of Euan and handed one to Armie. "I got the recipe from a Netflix show."

"Looks amazing," Armie said. 

Euan was already digging into the chicken, his mouth too full to agree or disagree.

Chris ran his fingers through his hair and gave Armie a quick kiss. "Want a beer? Water?"

"I can get it," Armie said, making no move to actually do it. Instead, he let his hands linger on Chris' waist.

Chris smiled. "You have a good day shooting?"

"Everything's on schedule," Armie said, grinning, still standing there, still wanting to just be close to his husband.

"Can you get a Perrier when you finally manage to tear yourself away from me?" Chris asked, resting his forehead on Armies' chest.

"Give me one more second."

When he got to sit down, Chris watched Euan and Armie, finding so many similarities in their mannerisms. DNA be damned, Chris thought. Euan was their son. Chris didn't know how much of himself he saw in his son, but Armie was always reminding him of things, like how they both made it a point to stand up straight and take a second to think before they spoke. It was something Armie wish he did more of. Armie caught Chris' eyeline, his expression something between a laser focus and a warm admiration. There was no question that having the kid around softened all of Chris' hard edges, not that there were many to begin with. Armie saw his whole demeanor soften, noticed his sometimes-bristly first impression practically disappear, and, completely out of nowhere, he was a dad -- and a good one, too. Without even trying, he was the best dad Armie could ever imagine. It was even harder for him to wrap his head around when he remembered that Chris' dad passed away. Sure, Chris read those parenting books, but there was some instinct nobody saw coming.

"You okay?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Just like what I see."

"You really did have a good day."

"I'm having a great night," Armie said. "I got my boys, I got a homecooked meal, and I have some plays to run by my kid tonight. Does it get any better?"

"I think I can make it marginally better," Chris said, reaching out to hold Armie's hand. Chris looked over at Euan, who was working on completely ignoring the vegetables on his plate. "Kiddo, how do you feel about maybe getting a little sister?"

Armie watched for a reaction. He and Chris had talked about it -- a lot. It took some convincing on Armie's part, but Chris ended up coming saying he'd think about and the more he did, the more he wanted Armie to have that chance.

"We are looking at surrogates," Chris explained to Euan, who still hadn't answered. "Someone to carry the baby in her stomach for us. But maybe we'd adopt, just like we adopted you."

"I don't know," Euan said, shrugging. "Maybe it would be cool?"

"We'll figure it out," Armie said, grinning. "We've got some time."

"Would we get an actual baby?" Euan asked.

Chris looked over at Armie. "We're still figuring things out," Chris said.

Euan didn't seem too affected by the news, but Chris didn't know what he expected to happen. He didn't have any siblings and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted Euan to have the same connection to someone the way Armie had with his brother and even more than that, the relationship that he saw between Jake and Maggie.

"It's good news, bud," Armie said. "Maybe she can be a goalie, since we've already got you to be the striker on our squad."

Chris could almost see the wheels turning in Euan's head. "Would we have to share a room?"

"We'd have to get a bigger house," Armie said.

"And will Seba still be our neighbor?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Chris said, smiling. Euan's priority list was clear: soccer, Sebastian, and then school. 

"We'll figure it out as we go," Armie said. "We just wanted to make sure you're cool with adding to our family."

***

Chris spent a lot of time watching Armie and Euan. The way they spoke, the way they connected during soccer drills, and more than that, the ways they just were when they were together. He always wondered if that was how things were with his own dad. The memories for hazier and hazier every time he tried to think about it. Euan was very much still a kid. Chris' dad didn’t pass until he was older, but he couldn't remember things like this. Did his dad’s eyes glimmer every time they were together? Did the simple act of being closer to each other seen to lift his dad's spirits? Was it his own fault that he couldn't remember? Was his own brain keeping him from digging into things that would break his own heart? He couldn’t tell. Instead, he kept his focus on what he knew would make memories that wouldn’t be hidden away.

"Did you do finish your homework already?" Chris asked when he heard Euan clomping down the stairs. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, cleats in hand. 

"I have to read my book later."

"Is it okay if I play with you today? Your daddy's got to be somewhere."

"It’s always okay," Euan said, already digging through the hall closet for his things.

"Maybe Sebastian will come," Chris said, "and he can try to defend against you."

It didn’t take much convincing for Sebastian to join them at the park. A short walk, a quick setup, and a few minutes later, Euan was blasting balls past Sebastian right into Chris' chest as he worked to defend the goal. It was a comfortable routine by now. If Euan finished everything he had to, there was no reason he shouldn't get in a few drills. Chris or Armie, or both if the stars and their schedules aligned just right, would head to the park and they’d soak up the afternoon sun together.

"Are you even trying?" Chris asked Sebastian as another ball curled around him.

He pulled his hair back, tightening the low ponytail into a small bun at the back of his head. Chris always thought he looked a little strange with his hair long, but Marvel paid the bills and for Sebastian that meant having long hair more often than he’d like.

"Is that more aerodynamic?" Chris joked

"Lots of trash talk for a keeper defending a mini goal," Sebastian said.

"How long have you guys been friends?" Euan asked.

"Since before you were born," Chris explained, adjusting his gloves. 

"Since your dad moved here," Sebastian added.

"Caleb and I want to be just like you two. We decided," Euan said, lining up another shot.

"Not like Nick and your daddy?" Chris asked.

"No, because Uncle Nicky and daddy aren't as fun."

"I think your daddy is more fun than I am," Chris said

"He thinks he is," Euan said. 

Chris let out a soft laugh. Armie was much better at things like this than him. Chris didn't have the grace or athletic prowess. It's why he stuck to running. Not only was it meditative, it didn't require any actual skill. He watched as Euan's body flowed and worked towards a single focus, his arms working with his legs, working with his feet to kick the ball. It was hard to believe he was only 8. Coaches told him that all the time. Robbie told him.

"How is Caleb doing?" Chris asked. "Is he still playing midfield?"

"He's not playing after this year," Euan said, taking a break from free kicks. Instead, he and Sebastian were tapping the ball to each other, one-two pass, one-two pass.

"Wow, really? Was that something he wanted?"

"He said it wasn't fun anymore for him."

Chris made a mental note to call Robbie. That had to have been hard. Chris knew that Robbie didn't expect Caleb to pursue soccer as a career, but he probably wanted Caleb to play through more than just AYSO. No kid had Euan's drive, at least none of the kids Chris had seen in AYSO and Euan's club team, but Caleb seemed to have a good enough time. Well, Chris thought, there was one more reason the Berlanti-Rogers and the Hammers wouldn't be seeing more of each other.

"Didn't you say your coach told you to be less selfish with the ball?" Sebastian asked.

"If I don’t have the ball, I can't score," Euan said.

"Good point," Sebastian said. He kicked the ball up and Euan bounced it on his knees a few times before tapping it with his head and letting it fall back to his knees and down to the ground. He did it over and over, not once letting the ball fall to the grass.

"Okay, showoff," Sebastian said. "You sure you're not a pro yet?"

Euan laughed. "I wish I was."

"Your daddy says he'll be home in 20 minutes," Chris said. "Should we head back?"

"One more drill," Euan said. "Please."

Chris got into place and Sebastian followed suit. There was always time for one more. By the time they got back to the house, Armie was in the kitchen and there were dozens of cardboard boxes stacked in the dining room.

Euan practically sprinted to his daddy, hugging him and talking a million miles an hour as he recounted the day and what he practiced at the park. Chris leaned over and gave him a kiss, making a point not to mention anything about the boxes.

"Let's get you cleaned up and then we can have dinner," Armie told Euan. "Can you take a shower and get into your pajamas?"

"What are you making?"

"Nothing special. Just chicken," Armie said. Whatever it was, it smelled very good. Chris could make out the smell of rosemary and fennel.

"So, when were you going to tell me about this?" Armie asked as soon as Euan was out of earshot.

"We talked about it," Chris said innocently.

"You finished a whole book without me even knowing. I don't think we really talked about it," Armie said.

"Whoa, what?" Sebastian asked. "Are you serious?"

"What do you think is in those boxes?" Armie asked. "I thought you said you were taking a break."

"He's in school, I have time," Chris said, sitting down by Sebastian. "It's done, what's the big deal?"

"Because this is usually when you go on book tours and have readings and interviews," Armie said. "I didn't know is all. I'm happy for you, it just came out of nowhere."

"It did," Chris said. "It's the quickest I've ever done anything. It just happened and David said to go for it. I don't have any publicity lined up for this. Can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'm happy," Armie said, opening the oven to check on the roast chicken. "But I'm in shock, too." He paused. "Part of that might be because I read some of it and it's very...dark. That's what's freaking me out."

"Death is bleak," Chris said, shrugging. "I'm not holding back."

"Can I get a copy?" Sebastian asked.

"This one is so small," Euan said, carrying one into the kitchen and handing it to his godfather. It was. David was surprised to see such a short book from Chris, who wasn't a writer who had any qualms over publishing something that ran more than 400 pages. This one was about 250. It looked like a pamphlet compared to some of Chris' other books.

"You listened to part of it," Chris said. "I was workshopping it with you."

"I'd remember this," Armie said.

"Can we talk about it later?" Chris asked. "I'm starving."

The chicken was good. Armie had been honing his technique, playing with different ways to get the skin crisp and the meat juicy. It was getting better every time he tried. After they'd loaded the dishwasher and Euan promised he'd finish reading on his own, Chris kissed him on the forehead before everyone else sat out on the patio, the fire pit blazing and tossing a warm glow on the three of them. Sebastian was nursing a beer and Armie was sipping from a rocks glass filled with a finger of scotch.

"Did you finish reading it?" Chris asked. "It's so short."

"Very funny," Armie said, pulling Chris down onto his lap. "Talk to me. Is this really just a book?"

"It's never just a book," Sebastian said, looking up from his open copy.

"OK," Chris said. "I wrote this when that whole thing happened with Greg. And we did talk about it."

Armie resigned himself to the fact that Chris was probably right. He worried that Chris was going through something deeper. Everyone knew that Chris always used parts of his real life for his books. Aside from one or two that deviated from that pattern, fans and critics alike scoured every single one for details to compare to anything they read about him. It wasn't always fruitless and that was exactly why Chris had the reputation he did. See-sawing between high culture and pop culture wasn't easy, but he'd managed to find the balance early on. Now, it's just what people expected. If the book had any sort of relationship issues, readers assumed there was certainly trouble brewing somewhere. Every time Armie finished reading anything he wrote, it was like letting out a long sigh after a long holding of breath. There was nothing in there that people could use against him. It was stupid to think that there would be, but there was always the possibility. There would always be whispers, but Armie could let those roll off his back. Most of the time, anyway.

This was a huge shift, not only in the tiny size of the book, but in its content, too. Readers had always described Chris' work as incandescent, even when it was tragic. Armie didn't know if any reviewers had even gotten a chance to read this one. It was so fast and so sudden, like a surprise release, almost, that it would undoubtedly make everyone scramble for it. Maybe that was the point.

"Happiness doesn't make for great art," Chris said, settling in, working his body to fit into Armie's contours and curves, taking a deep breath and letting everything settle around him. The crack of the fire and the subtle slapping of the water mixed together to slow everything down. "But I manage." He laughed and tried to bury his face even deeper into the crook of Armie's neck.

The three of them sat together in relative silence as Armie and Sebastian flipped through the book and Chris wondered just what they'd think. His mind wandered, floating from the surrogacy to what people would think of this relatively tiny book.

"Euan was always going to have a huge mountain to climb with Armie and me," Chris said. "And he went and found his own thing. That's incredible. I'm so happy. That's what gave me the ideas for this book. It's not what people are going to think. Things have to end for other things to start. That's just how it is."

***

"You can't be here," Chris said, keeping his voice low. He never considered himself intimidating, but he'd been told that the combination of a leather jacket and sunglasses got him close enough.

"I'm just watching."

"I could call someone," Chris said. "There are rules about this."

She stepped backward. "I drove two hours."

"I can't imagine what's going through your head or your heart," Chris said. "But think about him, please."

She sighed. 

"He doesn't know who you are," Chris said before realizing just how cruel it sounded. It was true, though. Euan had been in foster care when they'd adopted him. His biological parents were completely out of the picture, nothing more than phantoms floating behind the process. Now, Chris was talking to a ghost.

"I'm sorry," Chris said. "It's for him. Please, think about him."

Chris was bent over the cooler a few minutes later when Sebastian asked, "Who was that?"

"Euan's mother," Chris said, leaning in close. The last thing they needed right now was for everyone to know exactly what was going on.

Armie glanced over. He recognized her instantly from the days she came to set. While her dark brown hair was enough to give her a distinctive look, the deep red lipstick was what sealed it.

"What?" Sebastian asked. "What is she doing here?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Chris said as he white-knuckled the water bottle. He felt anger rising up, but he did his best to control it. "She knows she's not supposed to have contact. Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"You've seen the movies, Seb. Kids always want to meet their actual parents. He can do whatever he wants when he's 18."

A whistle blasted through the air and both of them turned their attention back to the game. "I have to talk to Armie about it," Chris said. "He's not going to like it."

"What can you do?" Sebastian asked, looking over at the team, who had already started the second half, black and blue jerseys zooming around just like the ideas flying through Chris' head.

"I don't know," Chris said. "It's weird."

An approaching couple was the perfect distraction, Chris and Sebastian both recognized them, but like always, they didn't know which player to connect them to. Chris saw a copy of his book in the woman's hand, still pristine. Either she hadn't read it yet or she was very careful with it. "This was very good," she said, clutching it to her chest.

"Thank you," Chris said, mustering a smile. "I'm very proud of it."

"Can I get it signed?"

"Of course," Chris said, reaching into his pocket for his pen. A Sharpie would have been better, but he didn't always have one of those on hand. He always carried this one, a hefty black pen that went all the way back, along with a notebook. The only time he was without both was when he went running.

"Tough to get through, right?" Sebastian asked, watching Chris' messy scribble. "Hammer" really was just a wavy line, no matter how precisely anyone wrote it.

She blushed and looked away for a second. Bingo, Chris thought. She didn't finish it. Maybe she didn't even start it. "It's actually a happy ending," Chris said. "The light is always darkest before the dawn, right?"

"There's more coming, right? This isn't really the end?"

"This was a surprise," Chris said. "I don't know. I've got a lot of things I'm thinking about."

"We've followed you since way before Euan was on the team. Watched the TV show, saw the movies," she explained. "I remember when you were with Jake Gyllenhaal, even."

"Yeah, throwback, right?" Chris said nervously. Just because it was in "People" magazine didn't mean it was something to bring up in normal conversation. He'd mastered keeping an eye on the game and carrying on a conversation with the other parents. Hopefully, Armie wouldn't be on the coaching staff next year and they could all go back to keeping to themselves, Chris thought. It would make game day that much easier if he wasn't dealing with birth parents and fair-weather fans. As much as he appreciated that people were out buying his books, it would be nice if those books got read.

"Thanks again," Chris said, handing the book back. "Let me know what you think."

By the end of the game, Chris had managed to write an email to the adoption agency asking about the protocol surrounding this. It was out of his hands now, whether he was right or wrong to have confronted her. "Should we get a picture?" Armie asked, smiling as Euan held the game ball. "It'll be tough to forget a hat trick, but we should get something just in case."

"I got you," Sebastian said, motioning for Armie, Chris, and Euan to scoot closer together. Sebastian snapped the picture, turned around to get a silly selfie with everyone behind him so he could have something for himself, and they all got ready to head out for the team celebration.

"He's a natural."

"Everyone says that," Chris said, tossing his napkin down. He couldn't remember ever having this much pizza before, but it was all part of the gig now. Practice, games, pizza, repeat. The kids were all gathered at one end of the table, still chatting about the game, a few of them even talking about how they could improve. One of the parents had recorded clips of the match and they were all huddled over the iPad, watching it like it was actual game tape.

"He's special, there's no denying it." 

Chris was sitting with a few of the parents and glanced over at Armie, who was nursing a beer and talking with another group. "I don't want him to get a big head," Chris said. "But I know he's good. I've had a professional soccer player tell me. It's why he's here with the club."

"We're lucky to have him. Duke hasn't been so as dedicated as he is now. He wants to play to Euan's level. It's good to have that."

"They're all great," Chris said. "Soccer is a team sport."

"Can I ask you something personal?"

Chris froze. "Yeah," he said, trying to be as casual as possible. His eyes darted from Armie to Sebastian, who was talking to another set of parents, his hands gesturing wildly like they always did when he got excited. Either he was talking about filming while wearing a metal arm or Euan's last goal, Chris couldn't tell.

"There's a part in one of your books..." Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him. "There's a family and the kid runs away and he's lost for the rest of the book without any sort of explanation. Why did you just leave us all hanging?"

"I wrote that such a long time ago," Chris explained. "I don't know if it's something I'd write now that I have a kid. As a parent, it's tough to even think about, but...I think I did it because the parents don't know what happened to him, so I wanted people reading to feel that, too. That weird confusion hangs over the whole book. Everyone's sort of lost, just like the kid."

"What are you talking about?" Armie asked, pulling a chair over and wrapping his arm around Chris' waist.

"Books," Chris said.

"Do you read everything he writes? You have to, right?"

"Every single word," Armie said, smiling.

"This is Duke's dad, James," Chris said. Duke was the goalkeeper and as far as Chris could tell, Euan's best friend on the team.

"I know," Armie said, reaching out to shake his hand. "We've met. Good to see you again."

"Great job out there," James said. "The kids love you out there."

"I'm the good cop. AJ is the bad cop," Armie said, motioning over to the other assistant coach. Since Euan moved to club soccer, Armie stepped back, letting the pros do their job. Now, he was more about running drills and making sure to research the other teams than coming up with tactics and plays. Robbie probably appreciated it, too. There were no more calls about formations and breaking defensive lines on Friday night.

"The kids are going to talk all night if we don't get things wrapped up," Chris said.

"It's amazing how much energy they have right after playing," James added.

"Guess I'm the bad cop, then," Chris said, he leaned over to give Armie's cheek a quick kiss. "Good job, coach. Another W in the books."

"Hey," James said, scooting closer to Armie. "Quick question."

"What's up?"

"That feeling that I get in my stomach every time Duke falls down or gets hit by the ball, does it go away?"

"No," Armie said flatly. "Chris says that he's going to have a stroke every time Euan gets knocked down or gets hurt."

"That's not what I wanted to hear."

***

"Working down here today?" Armie asked when he saw Chris sitting at the kitchen island, laptop open and his brow wrinkled in concentration. He was still in his running tights, shorts, and T-shirt. 

"David says he's getting angry emails from the 'Times' and the 'Review of Books.' They didn't like the surprise release business model," Chris said. "But the reviews are coming in. They're good. Really good."

"Congratulations," Armie said, coming over to kiss Chris' temple. His hand came up under Chris' shirt, feeling his stomach as Chris leaned back against him.

"Shit," Chris said, grabbing Armie's wrist as he focused back on his laptop. "The L.A. Times said it was an 'appetizer with no substance.'"

Armie grunted and pulled their bodies closer together. "Fuck 'em," he said. "If you don't try new things, they say you're boring. When you do, they don't think it's enough. I know who you write for and he's right here." Armie's hand went up Chris' body to rest on his heart. "If you're proud of it, that's what matters."

"It's not the warrior that's never been knocked down you should fear," Chris said quietly, his eyes still scanning the reviews that David had sent over. "It's the warrior that knows what it feels like to get hit and keeps coming back for more."

"What is that from?" Armie asked. It sounded so familiar. 

Chris chuckled. "It's that framed postcard in Euan's room."

It was Armie's turn to let out a quick laugh. "Get back up after you get knocked down," he said. It was what they always told him to say to himself when he didn't want to keep going, when he had his face down in the grass. Chris wasn't struggling to breathe or questioning the integrity of his ankles right now, but the words still rang true.

"I need another coffee," Chris said. "And a shower."

"I can help with both," Armie said, his lips tracing Chris' ear. There wasn't anything he could do about the reviews, but there was always something he could do to get Chris' mind off of them. 

The water was hot, almost too hot, just the way Chris liked it. Armie was kneeling down, his tongue buried in Chris as deep as it could go as Chris' forehead pressed hard against the cold tile of the shower. He groaned incoherently as Armie's tongue worked inside him and his hands stroked Chris' dick. It was all Chris could do to stay standing as his legs shook and his body was coursing with all the feelings shooting up his spine.

Armie gave his own dick a few strokes as his tongue fucked through Chris' hole. The steam and heat were mixing together, making it harder for both of them to breathe. 

"Get up here," Chris said, his voice breathy. Armie complied without his usual move of kissing up Chris' back. Both of them were too far gone to consider slowing anything down. The kiss was bruising when their mouths came together, all open lips and slippery tongues, Armie towering over Chris as his arms surrounded him, making every effort to completely surround him, to block everything out. Chris' hands were all over him, slick skin sliding under his fingers as he felt up Armie's sides, meeting chest hair and nipples as he moved up higher. He gripped Armie's broad shoulders and tried to get the kiss even deeper, wanting and needing more.

Armie gasped when Chris' hand suddenly dropped to his cock, stroking and squeezing. It was red, thick, and hot as Chris' hand worked up and down, his lips finally breaking the kiss to latch onto Armie's collarbone, sucking and kissing. Armie groaned, his jaw falling slack now that Chris' lips weren't attached to his own. The hand on his dick knew exactly what to do, working with a practiced familiarity of exactly how fast to move, where to add an extra squeeze, and when to swipe a thumb over Armie's slit. Shivers jolted through Armie's body. It was his turn to have shaky legs.

Chris felt a hand at his jaw, pulling his mouth back to Armie's. He wanted Armie in him, even though there were limited resources in the shower. They'd done this enough to know there should be lube, but neither of them could remember to ever do it. Chris whimpered into Armie's mouth when he felt a finger push into him and then immediately bear down on his prostate. He nearly buckled over, falling against Armie's frame and gripping his shoulders.

"Need me to slow down?" Armie asked, his voice low and deep. Chris pressed his forehead to Armie's, their eyes locking as Chris shook his head. Armie slid in a second finger and electricity shot through Chris' body, his toes curling, making him realize he was balancing on his tiptoes the whole time.

Chris groaned and clamped his hole tight, steadying himself against the wall, his shoulders back and his back arched, one leg hiked up onto Armie's hip. 

"Fuck," Chris said as he struggled with everything. The water, the positions, the sensations threatening to overwhelm him. His arm shot out to shut off the water, leaving their breathing and racing hearts to be the only sounds ringing in their ears. "I'm clean," Chris said breathlessly. "Take me to bed and fuck me."

Armie smiled, letting Chris get both feet down. More kisses, more hands, Armie wanted more everything. He reached for their towels and watched as Chris rushed through the motions and pulled him towards their bed. It was made, of course, though Chris didn't seem to mind as he got on his back, propped himself up on his elbows, and let his legs spread open. It was more than inviting as Armie stroked himself, his dick not going down at all since they'd made the short journey to the king-sized bed.

"You have no idea what you do to me," Armie said, pushing his hair back, Chris' eyes glued to the way his muscles flexed under his flushed skin. "You look so good right now."

Chris blushed, he couldn't imagine how needy he must have looked in the moment. Armie obliged, slicking himself up and getting into position, lining up head to hole and pushing in with one long, slow stroke. Chris grunted, his body still needing the adjustment even though the feeling was so familiar. Chris tossed his head back, his legs wrapping around Armie's waist. Armie kissed anything he could, from Chris' throat to his shoulders and back up to his lips. His thrusts were tiny, his body reveling in the tight heat, his cock throbbing. 

"God," he whispered, his lips on Chris' neck. He pumped in deeper and felt Chris tense up under him. Their bodies moved together, Chris' hands on Armie's shoulders and Armie's hips moving in steady, fluid motions. The neediness in Chris seemed to melt away, replaced with the want for intimacy and proximity. Armie's dick filled him, stretching him and hitting him just right. His tongue was in Chris' mouth and everything felt right, unhurried. Chris whimpered and groaned under him, tensing when Armie pulled out, his fingers digging into Armie's biceps with each thrust. "You feel so good," Armie said between his own grunts.

Chris let out a strained sigh, "You can go harder. I won't break."

Armie bit his lip and Chris could see the cords of his neck tense. Armie planted a hand on either side of Chris' head and thrust harder. Chris shut his eyes, gripping the sheets under him, his knuckles white. Armie pounded in with long, deep strokes. The morning light made his hair shimmer and the traces of water that ran down his body highlighted every muscle. Chris groaned under him, supple and responsive. Armie loved it, seeing how every single thing he did warranted a reaction, whether it was the subtle clench of Chris' hole around him or a stunted breath. Armie leaned down to kiss him again, groaning into Chris' mouth.

Armie wrapped his arms around Chris, pulling their bodies as tightly together as he could and rolled his hips, pushing hard against Chris' spot, making him cry out, the sounds a combination of incoherent words and Armie's name. He felt the heat rising from his dick, his balls drawing up every time Armie got him just right. 

Hips slowing, Armie pulled out and flipped Chris over, his body pliant. It went deeper this way, Armie knew that. It made Chris even more desperate, but Armie kept his hips slow and measured, taking Chris right up to the edge and keeping him there, watching his back flex and his skin bloom with a rosy flush. Armie held his narrow waist, gripping tight and pulling Chris back with every thrust. Armie felt it, too, he was chasing his orgasm as much as he was keeping Chris from barreling towards his own.

Armie bit down on the scruff of Chris' neck, sucking and licking. His hips drove in faster, his dick pounding through Chris hard and rough. For a second, he wondered why it always ended up this way, why even when they wanted things to be slow and easy, their bodies always wanted this. Chris tightened up, holding back his own climax as best he could, bringing Armie right back to the moment.

Chris pushed back hard, bringing both of them up onto their knees, Armie almost growling against Chris' neck. He pushed in a few more times and lost it, spilling into the velvet heat of Chris' ass, his ears ringing as he felt Chris' orgasm rip through him, his chute clamping so, so tight. Armie's hand tangled in Chris's hair and he pulled back, kissing him as best he could. 

The two of them collapsed onto the mattress with an inelegant thud. Chris let out a soft sigh and smiled when Armie wrapped his arms around him. They settled together with Armie spooned up behind Chris. He nuzzled Chris' neck and ran his hand in lazy circles on Chris' abs. 

"Five stars," Armie said.

"Shut up."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	10. Chapter 10

"What's that sound?" Chris asked, digging his face into the crook of Armie’s neck. 

Armie rubbed his face, groaning softly as Chris clung to him even more. He rubbed Chris' shoulder and heard a rhythmic thump, thump coming from outside.

"I'll check," he said softly, working to untangle himself from Chris' limbs. He planted his feet on the floor by the bed and stretched his arms over his head, a satisfying crack coming from his spine. The clock on the nightstand read 4:30 a.m. 

Armie pulled on a pair of briefs that were on the floor a few paces from the bed. He didn't know if they were his or Chris', but he stepped over to the walk-in closet and slipped on a pair of gym shorts over them and headed out, following the sound. Euan's bedroom door wasn't shut — it never was completely closed at night — but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Armie went downstairs and sighed. The front door was ajar and he knew what the sound was as soon as he heard it one more time. 

"Euan," Armie said, his voice scratchy. "It's too early."

Euan looked up at his daddy, but ignored what he said. Kick. A quick jog to get the ball and a reset. Kick. Again. Armie watched him bang a few more into his pop-up goal. 

"You can't win every game," Armie said. "You know that."

"But we should have won last night. I scored two goals."

"Even the best players don't always win. They don't always make it to the playoffs."

Euan looked like he was or had been crying, Armie could see what looked like tears coming from his eyes, but Euan wiped everything away, sweat or tears, to keep his daddy from seeing. 

"We needed to win."

He didn't have to tell Armie that. Coaches expected wins, but they also expected their players to rest and recover, not practice before dawn. He wouldn't be able to go back to bed. Not with all of the adrenaline running though him. Armie crossed his arms over his bare chest, doing his best to keep the chill away.

"I know how hard you work. Your team knows it, too."

"Jean-Luc crosses too low. I can't hit a goal in with my stomach. Coach tells him that every practice. Rodriguez lost the ball so many times. I was up there by myself."

"They want to win, too."

"Not as bad as I do."

"The better you are, they more pressure they feel to be good. You'll see." Armie yawned. "They'll see how hard you work and they'll try even harder."

"What's going on?" Chris asked, wrapping his arms around Armie's waist, his eyes still half-closed and goosebumps spreading over his skin from the morning chill.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," Euan said.

"Come here," Chris said. Euan's head hung despondently as he walked over, his legs tired and his feet heavy. He felt his dads' arms wrap around him and he finally let the tears flow and the sobs escape his throat. It broke Chris' heart and Armie ran a soothing hand down Euan's back. 

The team has the best record in the league. They were the favorites all season long. Euan was the star striker and the other clubs knew it. He'd earned his reputation and proved that he had the skills to back it up. But nothing was guaranteed. Heartbreak was always a possibility. Euan was the only one that didn't see it that way. He'd set club records. He has another golden boot to his name. The only logical conclusion to the season would be a championship. But things didn't go the way anyone thought. Underdogs won, too, because for soccer and for anything, really, it only mattered how well the teams played that day. And for the championships, Euan's team wasn't the best team on the grass.

"Come inside," Chris said. "Try to get some rest."

"Let's get you out of here," Armie suggested. "Pack a bag. We'll go to Santa Barbara. If we leave now, we'll beat all the traffic."

"It's Sunday, there's no traffic," Chris said, yawning again.

"We could all use a mental health day," Armie said. He kissed the top of Chris' head. "I know you're already packed." He looked down at Euan. "Get some things together. We'll head up."

"We don't have to pack to go to S.B.," Chris said. "We've got everything up there."

"Perfect."

***

"Why are you crying?" Euan asked, bouncing his soccer ball up and down, the steady thump-thump on the porch echoing off the house.

Chris wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled at his son. "Happy reasons," Chris said. One cry wasn't enough, it seemed. It was his turn, now. "Lots of people like my book. People are saying very nice things about it."

Euan smiled and sat down next to his dad. He remembered seeing him sign his books at the game yesterday. Euan knew what it felt like when everything seemed to go right, and he figured that was exactly what his dad was feeling. The book came out and now, people were liking it. To Euan, it seemed like nothing could be better.

"I wish the library was open today," Chris said, squeezing Euan's shoulder. "We could drop off some books and see how the reading room is doing."

"What are we doing when daddy gets back?"

"I'm going to go to the cemetery," Chris said. "You and daddy can hang out here and do your thing. I'll be right back. Is that okay?"

Euan nodded.

"I need a nap," Chris said stretching. Euan tapped the ball over to him and Chris did his best to juggle it a few times, kicking it up to his hands after a few bounces. He had learned a few things on the sidelines.

Euan let out a laugh, "You napped in the car."

"Do you think your daddy remembered to buy me bubbly water?" Chris asked, watching Armie pull into the driveway. Suburbia wasn't so bad when it involved garages, front yards, and going to the supermarket without having to get a parking ticket validated. Getting away from L.A. wasn't ever in the equation, especially now, but these getaways always made him remember how good he had it growing up.

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" Armie asked, pulling his sunglasses up to the top of his head. He opened the trunk and Chris walked over, inspecting the groceries. There was seltzer and there was a head of cauliflower, too. That meant Armie planned on spending the night in. The bag of charcoal confirmed it.

"Coffee, parents, and then...park? Maybe we can find a pickup game for you," Chris said to Euan, pulling a pair of bags from the trunk. "Unless you just want to hang out with your daddy all day."

"Don't we have to practice spelling or something?" Armie asked. He leaned over and kissed Chris, lingering a second longer than he had to. "I got you some flowers for you. They're in the passenger's seat."

"Thank you," Chris said, reaching into Armie's front pocket for the car key. "I won't be long."

"Take your time," Armie said, "we're taking it easy."

When Chris got to the cemetery, he was the only person there. It was small, set a few minutes south of the city, and overlooked the ocean. It was old, too, with upright headstones and mausoleums among the more modern flat stones. There were trees, but not many benches. Chris always sat on the grass, doing his best to polish his parent's marker with a few fast-food napkins he had in the car and a bottle of water. Every time, he said he'd remember to do it properly and every time, he managed to forget. He set the flowers in the vase and poured whatever was left of his water bottle in alongside the white lilies, their heady, powdery scent mixing with the ocean air.

He used to talk to them, like there was some way they could answer back, but he sat in solitary silence this time, thinking about what they'd think about Euan, how Chris was doing as a father, something he never, ever thought about. He wondered what they'd think about Armie's pivot to behind-the-scenes work, where his reputation as a pretty face wasn't as much of a detriment as it was on the other side. People took him seriously. Maybe it was because they weren't being distracted by his blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones.

Chris sat, leaned up against the side of the headstone, which read Lewis in big, stately letters. His journal was filling up, mostly with nonsense, hopefully with a nugget or two that he could build on. Mostly, he wrote because it was what he knew and what he did when he spent time alone. His pen glided across the paper as his mind wandered, jumping from thoughts of his parents to more ideas about him being a parent himself. He thought about the times he came with Armie, quick trips just to dust off the headstone and pay their respects. Other times, he came just to think and center himself, to have familiarity in a big, vast space where he could see the Pacific Ocean stretch out to the horizon. He felt small in those fleeting seconds, like an insignificant blip on the globe, but he always remembered that his mom and dad told him that he was important. He was a dreamer, they said, and the world needed dreamers.

The cemetery looked the same every time Chris came. Even though it was historic, new additions were only allowed to get flat headstones, making the entire place exist in a sort of frozen state. The headstones were always the same, the names were always the same, and new people didn't get a chance to stand out.

"I miss you," Chris said softly. It was getting hard to remember specifics about his own parents. Each passing day brought the existential dread that he could forget about them altogether. Euan never met them. Armie hadn't. Even Jake came after their accident. He was the only one keeping their memories alive — and he wasn't doing a good job. Would they be proud of his usual spot on the top of "New York Times" bestseller list? Would they care that he had an Oscar and worked to inspire everyone to read? Seeing Armie's relationship with his mom was always a reminder that things didn't always line up with the fairy tale he had in his head, but Chris figured that his own parents, if they were alive, wouldn't be so hard-headed. They wanted him to chase his dreams, but Chris thought that maybe, that's what you tell kids until the hard slap of reality came. Maybe, they wouldn't have supported his literary pursuits because of how unpredictable it was. Maybe they wouldn't have cared and maybe they would have. There really was no way to tell. Now that he had Euan chasing something just as unpredictable, he could use the advice.

Chris reached down to pull some weeds from the edge of the headstone, tossing them aside as he made his way around, feeling the warm sun and cool breeze on his skin. His grandparents' marker was a few rows down and he grabbed his second bunch of lilies and made his way over there. He went through the same motions, cleaning and weeding as best he could with his limited resources and bare hands. Their marker was under a big tree and Chris leaned against it when he was done, shaking the dirt off of his hands and surveying the empty cemetery. He walked slowly, pacing down the rows, taking a few moments to stop and read the names, try to do the mental math to see how old people were when they passed and being half-startled every time he heard a bird caw.

"The End: Part One," his latest book, didn't debut at the top of the bestseller list, but just a week later, it was there, sitting at the top like it wasn't a surprise release, like it was what he and David had intended on doing all along. He'd written it in what seemed like a fever dream and even though it had some very dark parts, it had an energy that every critic and reader felt, a hopeful optimism that stood out from every other book that touched on the subject of the end of the world. Chris knew he wasn't the only author that wrote about something like that, he knew he wouldn't be the last, but when he read that people thought his ideas were new and fresh, it felt good. It felt very good.

"What made this one different?" David had asked. Everything. Armie only read parts of it. Chris had written it all to take a break from his other projects, never intending it to be anything more than a distraction. Now, people wondered about part two. Chris used the title as more of a joke than anything else. It was a placeholder. He didn't write sequels, anyway. Part two, he thought, was what readers wanted to it to be. New beginnings came after endings. Everyone could choose their own adventure. If they wanted more, it was inside them. They just had to look. He wanted people to know that without telling them outright.

"Sorry I haven't been here more," Chris said when he reached his grandparents again. He sat back down on the grass, crossing his legs. He took a few slow, deep breaths and touched the stone, which was cooler than he thought, but warmed by the sunshine. It was pointless to want them back, but now that he was around more parents and Euan was seeing what families were like, he wished that his son had everything his friends did. 

"He's a good kid," Chris said. "Too good. You'd love him. He'd love you."

Chris sighed and got up, feeling the tears fall from his face. Great. More crying. This was the stuff he thought he'd grown out of, but it happened because he was feeling the loss for Euan now. Chris didn't have parents anymore, he didn't have grandparents anymore, but that meant Euan didn't have them, either. He never had the chance. Chris had lived through part one of his life. He thought Armie was the beginning of part two, but it was Euan. It was him all along. 

***

Euan loved the Santa Barbara house. He talked about it all the time at school, about how it had a yard in the front and back and how the grass was soft, but since it had been there forever, when he ran on it, his cleats never flung up clods of dirt. He juggled the ball as Armie read off words to him and he spelled them out. They finished the list and he kept juggling, the ball not hitting the ground even once. Armie moved to multiplication tables, which were even easier. Euan juggled higher, faster, smiling and laughing as he did his best to keep his streak going. He would take quick glances at his daddy, his blue eyes big and impressed. Armie was his biggest supporter, even if the other kids' moms called him a trophy husband once or twice.

"What happens when we lose a game?" Armie asked.

"We learn," Euan said. It was what they before and after every single practice. It was the same thing they said if anyone asked them what happened after they won a game.

Euan was a sore loser. Armie had known that since the beginning. It was important that he get that out of his system, but like his dad, the kid was stubborn. He played his heart out very single game, ran himself ragged, pushed himself as hard as he could. All he wanted was the same from everyone else. But soccer was a sport. There were too many variables. Winning was never guaranteed.

"You're incredible," Armie said. "When you said you'd commit to school as much as soccer, you weren't kidding."

"Were you for real when you said I couldn't play unless I got better in English?"

"Did you think we were faking you out?"

"I can't tell with dad," Euan said, finally letting the ball hit the grass. "But I can always tell with you."

Armie laughed, checking his watch before looking him in the eye. "You're incredible," he said again. He bit his lip. He wanted to ask Euan if he had any desire to meet his birth mother, especially now that she'd made attempts to see him, but any answer he got would break his heart. It was too soon, and even though Armie and Chris both knew that he was special, he was still a kid. This wasn't up to him just yet.

"Is there food?" Chris asked as he wrapped his arm around Armie's waist. He rested his face against his back. Armie was too distracted by Euan and his own thoughts that he didn't even notice Chris come back.

"You okay?"

"I will be," Chris said. "Now that I'm here with you."

"Dad, I memorized all my times tables up to 12," Euan said.

Chris smiled and came out from behind Armie. "Do you think I can juggle 12 times?"

"Yes," Euan said. "I've seen you do it."

"Do you think I can juggle 12 times two?"

"No."

"You're probably right," Chris said. "What should we get for lunch?"

***

Altogether, Chris had spent 18 years in Santa Barbara. After that, he'd fled -- at least that was what it felt like -- to Palo Alto. Then, he found himself back where it all started, only to feel completely alien to it all. The water was colder. The sand rougher. The sunshine wasn't as warm. But that changed. Then, a decade later, things changed again. Change was the only thing that never, ever stopped.

"I couldn't ask him," Armie said, sighing. "You were right."

Chris dug his toes into the sand, watching Euan just a few yards away. "I emailed the adoption agency. I emailed a lawyer. I don't know what's going to happen with that."

"I can't imagine what she's going through. She gave him up," Armie said. "You can't turn back from that."

"But that's what she's trying to do," Chris said. "She can't have him back. I know that much, but I don't know what happens if she even wants to see him."

"She has no right to that," Armie said. 

"Right now, she doesn't," Chris said. "When he's a legal adult, we can't stop him."

Armie took a bite of his sandwich and nodded. "We'll figure it out," he said. "I heard you on the radio today."

"I had to do some promotion," Chris said. "Sorry."

Armie laughed. "It's not that," he said. "You said that you were excited for new writers to come up with their own thing."

"I did."

"You know that you're the reason that a lot of new writers try new things?" Armie asked. "I hear it all the time. You worked hard to get kids reading and writing. I think you forget that."

"I've been distracted," Chris said, motioning over to their son. 

Armie reached over and held Chris' hand on the sand. "You are incredible," Armie said. "You're creative and so smart and I don't know where I'd be without you."

Chris scooted closer, leaning his head on Armie's shoulder and watching Euan kick his ball around on the sand. They were only a hundred miles from Venice, but it felt like an entire world away. The beach was calmer, everyone seemed way more relaxed, and just being far, far away from the idea of work made things seem so much more manageable. 

"How's it feel to be on top of the world right now?" Armie asked.

"Like it could all fall apart any minute," Chris said. "That's why I don't think about it. I'm thinking about how good our bed is going to feel and how I'm going to sleep in tomorrow morning."

Armie smiled, leaning over to give Chris a soft kiss. "I love you so much."

They ate in relative silence as they watched Euan dribble up and down the beach, practicing his footwork and doing his best to copy the moves he saw on TV. Chris looked up at Armie, the bright sunlight picking up the gold in his hair.

"Sometimes, I can't believe you chose me," Armie said. "And now with this, I know it was all meant to be. Things worked out like they should have."

"Says the most spontaneous person I know," Chris said, running his fingertip over Armie's knuckles. "The man that convinced me to get married at city hall. The guy who talked about adopting one day and brought the most amazing kid in the whole world into my life a week later."

Armie laughed. It sounded so simple when Chris said it out loud. Nobody would ever know that everything he did was to make himself the guy Chris deserved. All those prizes, the accolades, and respect he got from other authors meant that Armie would be scrutinized by people who were snobs. And when Chris got into TV, Armie put even more pressure on himself to do better, to chase projects he was passionate about. He did it so that he wasn't the schmuck that Chris settled for. He wasn't second-husband material, which he knew was something some of the moms at school said. The two of them were together because they were good for each other. Armie helped bring out certain parts of Chris' personality that were usually tucked away. Chris' more analytical and observant nature reminded Armie to think before he spoke or acted. It just worked.

"You know, I read that this could put you up for the Pulitzer," Armie said, his eyes looking out onto the horizon.

"They don't like me," Chris said matter-of-factly. "And that doesn’t matter. I'm proud of this weird little book. I wrote most of it on my phone, if you can believe that." The biggest prize in publishing still eluded him, but he'd made peace with it. The board wasn't into things that were too popular and certainly didn't want to associate the prestige that came with the Pulitzer with an author that happened to also write scripts and managed to turn one of his commercial successes into a teenage soap opera. It was fine. Chris knew there was no way to make everyone happy. Right now, the most important person was himself. As long as he was proud of something, he'd put it in the win column.

"When are you going to stop surprising me?" Armie asked.

"When I stop surprising myself," Chris said.

"Are we going to stay at the beach all day?" Euan asked.

"Until you get bored or I get sunburned," Chris offered.

Euan smiled. "I didn't mean to wake you up this morning," he said.

"We've got to learn to control our feelings more," Armie said. "Every game has a winner and a loser."

"Not when there's a tie," Euan said.

"Hey," Chris said, the tiniest hint of disciplinary sternness in his voice.

"Remember, you have a responsibility to be a good sportsman every time you lace up," Armie said. "Getting angry is part of the game, but you use that to play harder and smarter, not get out of line. Don't forget what happened when you got too mad."

Euan let out a huff and turned to face away from his dads. Juggling the ball in the sand was hard, nothing like doing it for real, but it was good to practice with different conditions. "It feels good to win," he said.

"I know, kiddo," Chris said. "But nobody wins all the time."

***

Sebastian tapped the six-number security code into Chris and Armie's smart doorknob, hearing the satisfying slide and beep that came with the deadbolt opening. Euan's birthday, but backwards. Just nonsensical enough, Sebastian thought.

The house was oddly quiet, but that was to be expected. Chris had sent him a quick message just to let him know they'd be away. There was a signed book for him to send to his parents, the jacket he'd left at the house on accident the night before, and a handwritten note in Chris' usual impeccable handwriting: Feed the turtle.

Sebastian chuckled. Sure, it was his fault, but he technically didn't have any ownership of Euan's pet tortoise. Everyone called it a turtle, but a quick Google search confirmed that they were all wrong. Euan and Sebastian found him at the park, obviously abandoned there, since tortoises didn't usually wander around Venice Beach public parks. Euan found him -- or her, nobody was quite sure -- hiding under a bush. Sebastian urged him to take the little guy home, mostly as a joke, figuring that Chris and Armie would take it to a shelter or something, but Euan was immediately smitten. A tortoise was cooler than any dog or cat and he'd wanted a pet for years. Armie couldn't say no. They were practically self-sufficient. 

Inside the fridge, there was a container of vegetable scraps and overripe fruit. He grabbed it and headed to the back patio, where the tortoise had free reign. Sebastian loved the house. It was so different from his modern, all-windows, sharp-edged house. It had history and character, even though Chris and Armie had to update things like the AC and water heater. History came at a price. Sebastian dropped a pile of greens, grapes, and dark crimson strawberries down on the ground and watched as the tortoise crawled over, making quick work of his meal. Sebastian snapped a picture and sent it to Chris, just in case his friend needed some evidence. He filled the reptile's water dish from the hose and took a look around, making sure nothing seemed too out of place. He paced over to Euan's raised growing bed, where his dads let him plant anything and everything. Sebastian saw the beginnings of a pumpkin vine, the remnants of a tomato plant, and a few things he couldn't recognize. Weeds? Kale? Euan went through phases of doting on his plants and periods of ignoring the bed completely, so there was no telling what was going on.

Armie was lucky to have found the house. Sebastian stood at the corner of the yard, the canals on both sides of him, a pang of jealousy going through his heart that his own place didn't have the luxury of being on a corner lot. He spent enough time on the lounge chairs that he reaped all the benefits, though. He was over just about every night.

The afternoon sun felt good, but he made his way back into the house, giving his regards to the still-unnamed tortoise and sliding the door shut. There was a pile of mail on the counter, a case of seltzer that Chris hadn't put into the fridge yet, and more printouts of calendars and schedules than he could count. Armie's laptop was on the counter, too, dented and scratched, like it'd seen a dozen drops to the floor and round-trip journeys to set. This was life with a family, something he knew firsthand thanks to all the time he spent with the Hammers. Everyone else might see them as the glamorous couple on the red carpet, but Sebastian knew the reality they lived in.

Satisfied with the once-over, Sebastian made his way upstairs for his only other task. He walked past Euan's room, where he sometimes spent the night on the trundle bed, and stepped into Chris' office. He'd spent plenty of nights here, too, on the pull-out sofa. Chris had asked him to make sure his computer was plugged into its backup drive, just in case. A glance at the wires confirmed it and Sebastian sent an all-clear message. The house wasn't burning down, the turtle was fed, computer was fine, and his jacket would be heading home with him. Full marks across the board.

Sebastian plopped himself on the couch, waiting to see if Chris had anything else for him, but nothing came, other than a thumbs-up emoji and a thank you. A second later, a photo of Armie, Chris, and Euan on the beach came through, all of them smiling. He reached for a notebook, the red cover catching his eye, and he flipped through it. He thought it'd be one of Euan's, since Chris usually went for more sedate options, but he saw notes inside, a few flowcharts, and some dialogue. His eyes jumped around, trying to make sense of Chris' work. He scanned a few pages before he saw his own name, a few words underneath: activist, nonprofit, emerging artists. None of it made any sense. Sebastian looked over a few more pages, but that page was an outlier. It was right back to whatever story Chris was working on, something about social media influencers, music festivals, and finding an identity in a world of perceived personas. It looked messy, but Sebastian knew things changed between inception and publication.

He set that back down and got up when something else caught his eye. On the built-ins behind Chris' desk, a stack of what looked like coloring books stood out against his collection of hardcover books. Sebastian ran his finger over the cover and picked it up. It was a comic. It was a whole stack of them.

"How fucking cute," he said to himself, seeing right away that the illustrations were of Armie, Chris, and Euan. He remembered Chris talking about it, but he never saw the finished product. He'd have to remember to ask Chris to read them. Or not. He grabbed two issues and made his way back downstairs, pulling open the patio again and taking his usual spot on the patio. If the house was empty, there was no reason not to take advantage of everything it had to offer.

***

"Oof," Chris let out choked grunt as Euan landed on his chest. So much for sleeping in. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at Euan, his own hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sun. 

"Hungry?" Chris asked, his voice still raspy and heavy with sleep.

Armie, who had his face burrowed into the crook of Chris' neck, reached up and pushed Euan's hair off his forehead. "We'll be right out," Armie said. "Can you give us a few minutes?"

"Can I watch TV?" Euan asked. 

"No," Chris and Armie said simultaneously.

"I'm up," Chris said, sitting up and letting out a huge yawn. "I'll meet you in the kitchen. I just have to use the bathroom."

"I can make you cereal," Euan said.

"That's okay," Chris said, stretching. "I'm going to make coffee and we can walk and get some bagels. Can you get dressed?"

"Ok," Euan said, finally crawling off of his dads' bed. Armie smiled and pulled Chris tight against him again. His hands trailed down Chris' bare stomach and he let out a soft laugh. Chris smiled at the soft scratch of Armie's beard against his neck. It was getting pretty wild, crawling up his cheeks higher than Chris could ever remember and going down his neck, almost connecting to the hair on his chest.

"Missed my chance to give you a morning fuck," Armie said, his lips still on Chris' neck.

"It's been a while," Chris said, pulling Armie's hand up and kissing it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and scanned the floor for his briefs. He took a step and winced. "Maybe it's good you didn't," he added. "I'm sore."

A smug smile spread across Armies lips. "Never stopped either of us before."

Chris pulled his underwear on, Armie's eyes watching the muscles in his legs and abs. "You want to come?" Chris asked.

"Is my underwear down there, too?"

"Were you even wearing underwear yesterday?"

"Got 'em. They were over here," Armie said, reaching under the bed on his side. Chris was already in the bathroom brushing his teeth when Armie slipped in behind him, his hands feeling down Chris' sides and his lips brushing against the back of Chris' neck. Chris leaned back against him and smiled through all the toothpaste. Mornings together were rare enough. Lazy ones were even more scarce.

"We'll pick this up later," Armie said, giving Chris' shoulder a quick kiss.

Armie bit his lip as he looked at Chris, who was sipping on his coffee and scrolling through his phone. He was wearing that same worn-out grey hoodie, but had neglected to put a T-shirt on underneath, whether because he was too lazy to put it on or because he knew what it did to Armie. The peek of collarbone and smooth skin was enough to make Armie stare and his dick start to stiffen.

"You need anything else?" Chris asked Euan, who was unwrapping his cinnamon raisin bagel.

"I'm good," he said. Chris pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. Vocabulary and spelling. Just because he was playing hooky from school didn't mean he was completely missing out on learning.

"You okay?" Chris asked, looking over at Armie.

"I'm all good," he said, smiling. He leaned over for a kiss, his hand coming up to feel Chris' neck. "It's nice being all together without a game or anything like that."

"Get those in before I start on this smoked salmon," Chris joked, kissing Armie one more time. He ignored his phone buzzing in his pocket and leaned in, getting as close as he could to Armie as they started eating.

"My turn?" Armie asked, feeling his own pocket vibrate. He ignored it, too. It was still too early for anything serious to be happening. Plus, even if there was an emergency, they were two hours away. Euan was blissfully watching the dog walkers and joggers, his eyes darting from person to person as they walked by. He was always watching, Armie noticed. He was always very aware of everything going on around him. It was a world apart from Chris, who seemed to be distracted all the time, either by his notebook or the ideas swirling around in his head.

"Is Turtle okay?" Euan asked.

"I’m sure the turtle is fine," Chris said. "Sebs fed him. You know those things live to be more than 100 years old, right?"

"We don't know how old he is," Euan said. "He could already be 100."

"He's got a point," Armie said before taking a bite out of his bagel.

"God, what is going on?" Chris asked, carefully setting his bagel down and reaching for his phone. "It's not even nine yet." Chris froze when he saw who was calling. It was the adoption agency. That was the first red flag. The fact that Armie was getting called, too, was another one. Something was wrong.

"Take it," Armie said. "I'll keep an eye on things." He watched as Chris got up and walked a few paces away, leaning against a street light as spoke. He was just out of earshot, but Armie watched his face closely, trying his best to see if he could read anything. Chris didn't look mad, it was more a mask of disbelief and fear. It wasn't a good combination.

"You're dad's fine," Armie said as soon as he saw Euan's eyes look up at him. It wasn't exactly a lie. Chris was still upright, after all. Armie looked over again and saw Chris cringe as he hung up.

"Do we have to go home now?" Euan asked when Chris sat back down. Chris reached for Armie's hand under the table and did as much as he could to make his heart slow down.

"No, no," Chris said, his voice bordering on shaky. "It's not...it doesn't change anything, kiddo. Everything's okay."

Armie squeezed Chris' hand. "Finish up. We can head to the bookstore before we really do have to go back to L.A.," he said to Euan.

Chris sipped his coffee slowly, his body numb but slowly coming back down. He could barely even taste anything. He leaned against Armie and took a deep breath. He wished it was Armie that took the phone call. Now, he had to be the one to tell his husband that their son's biological mother had overdosed.

***

"Do we tell him or not?" Chris asked, keeping his voice low. He was signing books at Chaucer's, the independent bookstore that his parents had taken him to while he was growing up, the same place they took Euan almost every time they came up to Santa Barbara, and where he'd had a few signings before. It was so much nicer to go to a small shop like this than to have to do anything at a big box store. He was glad this place hadn't gone under, but every time he came through the front doors, he got a pang of fear that the place wouldn't be around much longer.

"No," Armie said, "not now, at least." He didn't want to say it out loud, but this definitely made things a little easier. They'd been thinking about taking legal action after she showed up on set and at the game. It was awful, but at the same time, it was sort of a relief. He hated himself for even thinking about it that way.

He watched as Chris carefully signed his name in the books. His signature was clear and crisp even though Armie could feel just how tense he was. His heart swelled a little every time he saw Chris write Hammer, the H big and proud and the R at the end capitalized for no reason at all. The store wasn't as polished or organized as the Barnes & Noble stores back in L.A. Instead, the shelves were higher and tightly packed. The store was a maze and had nooks and benches around, so shoppers were encouraged to stay, not just grab what they were looking for. It even smelled different. Armie could tell why Chris liked it so much.

"It's crazy," Chris said, not looking up from his books. "And I basically told her to leave us alone forever the last time we talked."

"It's not your fault," Armie said. "Don't look at it that way." He grabbed Chris' forearm and looked him in the eyes. "This is not your fault," he said again. "It's not on any of us. She was ... troubled. Is that the right word?"

"She was an addict," Chris said. "We knew that. But she was in recovery." There was a part of him that wanted a beautiful sort of reunion between Euan and his birth parents eventually -- if they were still together; Chris didn't even know. He should have known better. Happy endings were rare in real life.

"That's a lot of books," Armie said, sliding a short stack of signed books to one side. He had every cover memorized, but this was the first time he'd seen all the new ones in one place. No more Gyllenhaal. No more Lewis, even. Every book said Christopher Hammer, right back to his very first one, which was still in print in its paperback edition. 

"This is probably the only place that has every single one in stock," Chris said. Most bookstores only had his latest books and his debut novel. Chaucer's had everything between, including the essays he'd edited, the collections of short stories, and even some foreign editions that had different covers. Armie even saw a book that had been translated into Japanese. "They feel obligated to have everything from the hometown boy."

"It's cute," Armie said. He looked over his shoulder, wondering where the store employee that had been talking to them went. They were recognized as soon as they came through and, naturally, Chris obliged when the staff requested that the sign all the stock they had. It wasn't much, so Chris was just doing it in the shelves, Sharpie in hand as Armie handed him the books one by one. Euan was wandering around, hoping to find something about how to care for tortoises or something from Roald Dahl. Armie could hear him talking to an employee about his new pet, his voice cutting through the relatively quiet store.

"He's going to find out eventually," Chris said. "He's too young for this now. I just don't want him to find out from anyone else."

"Daddy," Euan said. "I found three."

"Cool," Armie said. "Let's go pay for those."

"I have to use the bathroom," Chris said. He re-shelved the books himself, putting them all in alphabetical order by title, running his fingertips over the spines when he was all set. It was something to be proud of. "I'll meet you guys up front."

Chris made his way to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, the bracing cold sending a chill down to his heels. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to happen at all. He tried his best to calm down, thankful that Euan was around so he couldn't have a full-blown meltdown. If he was at home, Chris was sure there'd be some tears. He stood up straight, zipped his hoodie up all the way, and steeled himself. This would pass. They'd tell Euan when he was older. For now, they had to go on with the day -- with their lives -- like nothing had happened.

"Thanks so much for signing everything," the clerk said when Chris walked up to the cash wrap. His name tag said Xavier. Underneath his name, in smaller letters, was "bookseller."

"You're welcome," Chris said, half-smiling. "Anytime you guys need anything, email me. I'm so happy that the store's still here. It means everything to me."

"Can you tell me if there's going to be a part two?" Xavier asked, his expression hopeful.

Euan was already flipping through his tortoise book and Chris glanced over at Armie, who smiled at him, a knowing look on his face. "I don't have one planned yet," Chris said. "But characters have a way of coming back to me. I can't promise there will be, but you never know."

Xavier nodded. "It was just so good," he added. "But my favorite one is 'Everything After the Wedding.' Everyone says that though, right? The movie made everyone like it."

"No, actually," Chris said sincerely. "Everyone says I peaked with my first book."

"Not everyone," Armie interjected.

"Thanks again," Xavier said. "I hope he likes Harry Potter and good luck with the turtle."

"Tortoise," Euan corrected.

"You're already reading Harry Potter?" Chris asked when they got outside. "And don't we already have that whole set?"

"It's actually 'Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them,'" Armie explained, holding the book up.

"Got it," Chris said.

"You ready to head home?" Chris asked Euan. "We need to check on your tortoise."

"You need anything else?" Armie asked, wrapping his arm around Chris' waist.

Chris looked around the store one more time, soaking in as many details as he could. "I'm good."

***

"Things don't have to be weird with us," Robbie said, settling down on the touch. Chris hand him a glass of water and sat down across from him, in an armchair that nobody ever sat in

"Things are going to be weird," Chris said. "Maybe eventually it'll be less weird."

"We're taking some time apart. Counseling. He's not a bad guy," Robbie insisted. "He's a great dad."

"Great businessman," Chris said. "Just not the right kind for me."

"We lost a lot when you pulled out," Robbie said. "Netflix wanted a big name, a big project. When they saw how good the show was on HBO, how great Sebastian was, they realized that maybe something was up. They dropped him, but he managed to salvage it, one movie, two if they like that one."

"I'd like it if we were just civil," Chris said. "When I run into him, I just feel like he's waiting to scream at me because of what went on."

"I can't say I'm sorry enough," Robbie said. "I mean that."

"And it has to hurt you, too," Chris said. "Honestly, I don't know why you put up with it."

"Because we have a kid. Because I know that he is a good man."

Chris sat up, not knowing what else he could say.

"Anyway. I just wanted to ask you to send any leads my way. If there's a script out there that you like or a writer that's got some new ideas, please let me know," Robbie said. "I'm his partner, in life and in work now. I want our first project together to be a big deal."

"Yeah," Chris said. "I will. I'm not out to sabotage you or Greg. We didn't work out in the end, but I owe him a lot for the show. I won't ever forget that."

"Thank you," Robbie said. "I appreciate that more than you know."

"I never meant to leave you guys high and dry like that," Chris said. "Especially since the kids are friends. But it's what I had to do."

"I get it one hundred percent," Robbie said. "Moving on is hard. We all have to put things behind us and keep going. Isn't that what we tell them when they lose games?"

The sound of the front door opening caught both of their attention. Chris looked at his watch -- it was too early for Armie to be coming back. "Hey," Sebastian said, his voice booming through the house. "My SAG Award got here. I'm here to drink all of Armie's beer."

"Congratulations," Chris said over his shulder. Before he could tell Sebastian that Robbie was in the house, he came through the living room, holding his statue triumphantly in the air. "Oh, hey," he said. "I didn't notice your car out there."

"Congratulations from me, too," Robbie said. "You were great in the show. It's well-deserved. Really."

"Thank you," Sebastian said, smiling. He set the trophy down on a side table. "Am I interrupting something important?"

"No, nothing like that," Robbie said. "Just a visit."

"Good to see you," Sebastian said. "It's weird not seeing you and Caleb every weekend."

"I've been meaning to tell you," Chris said, looking over at Robbie and jumping his eyes back and forth between him and Sebastian. "Sebastian knows. Me and Armie are going through a surrogacy thing. It's pretty big news."

"Oh, wow," Robbie said, eyes wide. "Another kid? That's huge. Really huge."

"A girl. We hope, I mean," Chris said, his heart swelling just thinking about it. Sebastian was one of the only people that knew. Chris and Armie were keeping things close to the chest still, but it seemed right to tell Robbie. He helped them with Euan, convinced Chris that being a dad would just sort of work. They owed him a lot. He owed them, too, but Chris always felt indebted to Robbie. That wouldn't ever change. It was more than just the TV show and the now-bitter taste that came with any thought of Greg, it was for introducing Euan to soccer and just being a dad that Chris could talk to.

"Lots to celebrate," Sebastian said, tossing his arm over Chris' shoulders. "We're proud of you, Chris."

"Proud of me? You're the one with the statue."

"Because of you," Sebastian said.

"I can't, well, I guess I can take a little credit," Chris said. "But you won. I'm not going to take away from that. I'll get you a beer. Do you want one, Robbie?"

"No," he said. "I'm actually going to head out. Thanks again for having me over. I miss you guys a lot."

"I'll let you know if anything comes my way," Chris said.

"Was that weird?" Sebastian asked before taking a sip of beer. Chris was leaning against the front door, tapping at his phone, undoubtedly giving Armie a rundown of what had happened.

"No," Chris said. "Robbie is an incredible person. It's just his husband that's a creep."

"My agent is probably going to send you a huge bouquet of flowers," Sebastian said. "This was a huge deal for me."

Chris slipped his phone into his pocket and came over to give Sebastian a hug. "I love you," Chris said. "You are so talented. You earned it and it means so much to me to have you on anything that I'm involved with."

"I owe you," Sebastian said. "For everything." Not just for the show and all the other work, Sebastian thought. For making him feel like part of the family, for the honor of being a godfather, and for a friendship that meant more to him than anything.

"I'm going to get us reservations somewhere nice," Chris said. "We're going to do this right. For once, we won't let the kid choose where we're eating."

***

Indulgent was an understatement. Armie knew that he and Chris didn't need a suite, but he wasn't one to turn down an upgrade. This one was even nicer than most, with a huge balcony with a few chairs and a rain shower that Chris was already taking advantage of. Armie sat down on the couch, surprised at how plush it was, and stretched his arms up over his head. It'd been a while since he and Chris took a cross-country plane ride and the six-hours sitting still plus the time-zone change were enough to make him feel half-dead.

"Everything good?" Armie asked when his phone lit up with a FaceTime call. Euan and Sebastian waved back, smiling. "We just got to the hotel."

"Seba stepped on turtle poop," Euan said.

"We're fine," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. "What time is he on tomorrow?"

"Hour two," Armie said. "Eight-ish."

"What time does he have to be there?"

"We'll be there at six," Armie said, rubbing his face. "And we're flying back tomorrow night. We should be there before you wake up on Saturday, Euan. We won't miss the game."

"Where's dad?"

"He's in the shower," Armie said. "We're going to meet up with his editor for dinner."

"You're not used to seeing your dad do work like a grown-up, right Euan?" Sebastian joked. "We're going to head to practice and then get some pizza."

"In bed before 8, okay?" Armie said. "We're not staying up late."

"Hey, kiddo," Chris said, appearing over Armie's shoulder. "Be good for Sebastian. Have a good practice."

"Bye dad," Euan said.

Armie hung up the call and turned around, his eyebrow raising at the sight of Chris with a towel slung low on his hips. "They don't have robes here?"

"I can put one on," Chris said. "But I figured it'd just get in the way."

"Good point," Armie said, smiling as Chris came around the sofa and settled on his lap. Armie's hands went around Chris' waist as they kissed, groaning softly as they settled into the couch, their bodies working together in a well-practiced routine. Chris felt Armie's biceps, his shoulders, and moved to his chest, feeling the firm muscles and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Chris kissed at Armie's neck and throat, smiling at the familiar scratch of his beard against his skin. His breath hitched when Armie's touch moved to his butt, sending a jolt to Chris' dick. It wasn't often enough that they got the luxury of being alone without a pickup or time crunch and Chris reveled in the ease of being able to really kiss Armie, to feel his tongue and work his hips. Armie grunted as Chris pulled his T-shirt off and let out a soft moan as they kissed again, skin on skin, both heating up as Armie's hands got needier, going down to stroke Chris' dick and creep up underneath his balls to circle at his hole.

"You lubed up for me?" Armie asked, his voice gravelly. Two fingers slipped right in and Chris pushed back, answering the question for him.

"Get these jeans off," Chris said, a hint of desperation in his voice. As much as he wanted to stay there on Armie's lap, he was getting in the way of his own request, so he stood up, his breathing already quick and a rosy flush spreading across his chest. Armie kicked his shoes off and stood up, kissing Chris again as both of them fumbled at his belt and button, the usual grace and muscle memory failing them both. Chris felt himself get turned around and he was laying on the couch in no time, Armie pressed on top of him, his kisses hungrier and deeper, tongue pressing against his as his fingers pushed in and tapped at Chris' prostate, making his toes curl and his back arch. It was Armie's favorite way of getting Chris barreling towards orgasm. Sometimes, he could shoot from just the insistent press and tap of Armie's fingers, something Armie took advantage of when he wanted to be particularly ruthless.

"Oh fuck," Chris gasped, burying his face into Armie's neck as felt him push in. One steady stroke and he was buried deep, groaning at the tight, slick heat of Chris' ass clenching around him. "Give me some warning next time," he said, his neck straining as Armie ground into him.

Armie licked a hot stripe against Chris' jaw before kissing him again, giving Chris a few shallow thrusts and the luxury of getting loosened up. They were both to blame for the mix of urgency and carelessness, their bodies and hormones pushing common sense away. Chris wrapped his legs around Armie's hips and hung on, his head tossed back as Armie picked up speed, using more of his dick with every push and pull. Chris was groaning incoherently as Armie pounded into his hole and clumsily stroked his dick. Chris gripped Armie's broad shoulders and bit his lip, seeing stars already. It was quick and dirty, both of them needing to just take the edge off of having to sit still for so long. Armie pushed his forehead to Chris and pumped in deep, grinding his hips hard and pushing one of Chris' legs off to one side, spreading him open more, giving Armie the chance to get just a fraction deeper.

Chris whimpered, his body racked with waves spreading out from his hole, heat pulsing from his fingertips to his core. The quick, wet thrust of Armie's dick pushed against his prostate with every movement and he could feel himself unraveling. It was too much too fast and he pulled Armie even closer to him, wanting as much contact as possible, wanting to feel like they were connected everywhere, Armie's sweat-slick skin sliding against his, their lips never coming apart, and Armie's dick sliding in deep and hard.

"Armie," Chris said, his hands splayed across Armie's shoulder blades. "Slow down."

Armie's came to a halt and he took a deep breath, chucking softly as he lifted Chris up and they settled back into their original position, Christ straddling his lap. "Carried away there," he said, pushing Chris' hair back and off his forehead. "You get me so hot." He kissed him again, softer and slower, both of them settling into a new, more relaxed and languid tempo.

Chris rocked his hips, feeling Armie's dick stretch him open. There was nothing he could compare the satisfying fullness to, it felt so good and so right. Armie watched the muscles in Chris' chest and abs as he moved, a steady drip of precum sliding down his shaft, his dick pulsing every time he moved. Chris buried his face into the crook of Armie's neck, feeling heat rising through his whole body as they moved together, the room filling with the sound of their groans and the wet smack of their skin. 

"You feel so good," Armie said, his lips brushing against Chris' throat. It was hot and slick, Armie's precum spilling into Chris' ass, mixing with lube. Chris could feel Armie's teeth on his skin and Armie's hands settling on his lower back, pulling them even closer together, Chris' dick smashing against Armie's abs, the sensation pushing him that much closer to orgasm.

Chris pulled Armie up to kiss him again, their mouths crashing together as Chris struggled to keep from whimpering. Armie was hitting him deep and hard with every thrust up and Chris' hips were desperately slamming down. A deep groan came from Armie's chest, shaking through them both as Chris rolled his hips, Armie's dick balls-deep.

"I'm close," Chris groaned, his forehead pressed to Armie's and his eyes half-closed. A bite on his lower lip from Armie was all it took. Armie pushed up, pulling Chris down into his lap even more and felt Chris' chute pulse around him before the wet heat of Chris' cum splattering between them. Chris was groaning loud and taking deep breaths as he rode it out, shuddering when he felt Armie seize up, overtaken by his own climax. Chris collapsed onto Armie, who was settled back on the couch. Chris was kissing whatever part of Armie he could, running his lips slowly from shoulder to neck and jaw. Even when they had all the time in the world, things felt fleeing and rushed.

"Wow," Armie said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That as a quick one."

Chris let out a soft chuckle. "Want to go again?" he kissed Armie one more time, taking his time and feeling Armie's shoulders and biceps with his hand.

"Is that a challenge?" Armie said, slowly moving so that they were laying on the couch, Chris' legs wrapped around his waist. "You know I'm good for more than just one."

"We have to get ready," Chris said, still breathy. "Why does it always feel like we haven't had sex in weeks? It's only been a day."

Armie gave a soft laugh, fingertips grazing Chris' spine. "I hope it's always like this."

"Maybe a little less desperate," Chris asked as he nuzzled Armie's neck.

"Stop being so fucking sexy and I won't be so desperate."

***

Armie gave Chris a quick kiss and squeezed his hand as he stepped up onto the stage to take his seat with Savannah Guthrie. Chris had a huge smile on his face as he sat down. Armie watched every tiny detail, trying to see just how nervous Chris was. So far, so good. He looked relaxed enough so that a normal viewer wouldn't be able to tell he was counting down the seconds. He was scheduled for two seven-minute segments with a commercial break between. For Armie, it would have been the easiest thing in the world, the only thing he'd worry about is talking too much. For Chris, being on camera was just a very necessary evil. He'd rather testify before congress again than be on the "Today" show. It was the expectation of being bubbly and warm that scared him. When he was doing things like writing about the end of the world, it just didn't seem right. Armie was so proud he felt like jumping up and down. From the way he was sitting to his black blazer, Chris looked every bit like a cool writer.

"You're doing great," Armie said during the commercial break. He'd rushed up, much to the dismay of the camera team, to shake Savannah's hand and assure Chris that everything was going OK.

"Do I sound like I'm mumbling?" Chris asked. "Am I rambling?"

"No," Armie and Savannah said simultaneously. "You're amazing."

"Two minutes," came a voice from over Armie's shoulder. Chris took a sip of water and closed his eyes for a second, just to re-center himself. Savannah was checking herself in a hand mirror.

"You've done this a million times," Armie said.

"It doesn't get any easier," Chris insisted, even though he knew that it really did. He took a deep breath and smiled again. "Too much? Am I sounding like a psycho yet?"

"Stop," Armie said, shaking his head. "C'mon, we're almost done. The hard part's over."

"Don't coach me, Armie," Chris said. "Save it for the kids."

Armie bounded away just in time for the cameras to come back on.

"What's next?" Savannah asked.

"I'm going to enjoy a tiny bit of a break," Chris said. "Spend time with my family. Having the show wrap and the book out, it's time to take it easy. It's the first time in a long time I'll get the chance to slow down."

"You son is a star in his own right, we hear."

"He's still very young," Chris said. Armie could feel the warmth coming off of him, this is the Christopher Hammer that America loved. The critics looked at the material on the page, but this is what the public saw, since so many people were intimidated to read any of Chris' books that didn't turn into movies. When Chris was relaxed and himself, he exuded a charm Armie couldn't explain or resist. It was genuine, warm, and didn't come out often enough when Chris made appearances. "Armie and I are supporting him and letting him finding his own place in the world. It's all very different from what I do and what Armie does, so we're all learning."

"You've become such an advocate for adoption since you did it yourself, do you have plans on growing your family?"

Chris was ready for this. The show had sent over talking points while they were still in L.A., though everything was up in the air depending on timing. "There's always a possibility out there," Chris said. "Adoption and the foster care system, which is how we found our son, is still something that's so foreign to so many people. I think it's important to make it a part of the conversation and I'll always be a proponent of it. We don't have plans to adopt right now, but it's something I'm glad we did. I didn't ever think that I'd become the face of adoption, but it's something I'm happy to be."

"What do you want people to know about it?"

"Adoption is all about love," Chris said. He looked over at Savannah and hoped against all hope that his answers weren't coming off as too much for a morning show. "The birth parents love their kid so much and they're making a huge decision because they love their child and want to have them in a stable, safe, and supportive place. And, of course, adoptive parents love their adopted kid so much, it's just something I want everyone to look at differently. It's about having a conversation around it so it's not just some sort of idea. It's a real thing."

"Are you making it a point to keep him away from the spotlight?"

"He's got his own spotlight," Chris said. "I know a lot of celebrities take their kids to red carpets and big events, but that's just not how we are. It's not our scene, we're more about time at home than anything else. Plus, his schedule is busier than mine. I can't imagine fitting everything together."

"You've got a strong partnership with Sebastian Stan, who we all know is a big part of your life. Can fans expect to see something between you and your husband soon?"

"If it happens, it happens," Chris explained. "If a project really resonates with him and I happen to be involved, then it's great. Everyone thinks I write stories with him in mind and that's not the case. I love him so much and he's an amazing, talented actor and director. I consider myself lucky if he even thinks about working with me."

"We wish your family nothing but the best," Savannah said. "Congratulations on all the awards and nominations for your limited series 'Nine More Stories.'" She turned to the camera. "'The End: Part One,' 'New York Times' Bestseller and finalist for this year's National Book Award, is available now. Christopher Hammer is the author of over a dozen novels, short story collections, and essays as well as an education activist and award-winning screenwriter and producer."

"Phew," Chris said, reaching to shake Savannah's hand when the cameras stopped rolling.

"'Phew' for me," she said, smiling. "That's a long list of accomplishments. I do this enough to know."

"I've been around a long, long time," Chris said as he stood up.

"And this is the first time I've gotten a chance to sit down with you," she said. "Let's make sure that it's a more regular thing."

"For sure," Chris said, offering a nervous laugh. "Thanks again. It wasn't as painful as I thought."

"I thought you said you had camera training," Armie said as they made their way back to the green room.

"That's not the first time you've seen me in front of a camera," Chris said. "I just get nervous. This is live TV."

"I'm joking," Armie said, leaning over and kissing Chris' temple. "You did great."

"I always get really nervous," Chris said. "And I didn't get enough time to settle in."

"You're so smart and well-spoken," Armie said as they gathered their things. "You have nothing to be worried about." He grabbed Chris' arm and their gazes met. "I mean it. You're incredible."

Chris blushed and leaned in, resting his forehead on Armie's shoulder. "Right now, Penguin is watching sales numbers," Chris said. "And they're spiking. They always do, even if I'm just on the radio."

"That's a good thing," Armie said, chuckling. He felt Chris' back, palms drawing circles across his shoulder blades.

"I know," Chris said. "But there's just something weird about pitching my book like it's a commodity. I've never liked that. I want people to read by books because they want to, not because they saw me on TV."

"A sale's a sale," Armie said, pulling Chris into a tight hug. "And you're out here to sell, so, mission accomplished."

Chris smiled, for real this time, and went back to making sure he had everything that they'd brought with them, like his phone and wallet along with a bottle of water and his sunglasses. He tossed everything into his backpack as Armie scrolled through his phone. 

"One more thing," Armie said, his eyes sparkling and his smile bigger than ever. "She's pregnant. One of the embryos took."

\---

feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	11. Chapter 11

Unfamiliarity. That's what it was. It had been so long since Chris kissed Armie without a full beard -- a full, very unruly beard -- that it felt almost foreign. He even reached up to touch Armie's cheeks. It wasn't completely smooth, but for Armie, stubble was the closest thing to clean-shaven that he ever got.

"Italian fashion labels don't like lumberjacks?"

"Did I really look like a lumberjack?" Armie asked, his hands feeling down Chris' sides to rest on his waist. 

"Nobody would ever mistake you for someone who did manual labor," Chris said, rubbing his cheek against Armie's.

"Is the kid asleep already?"

"He better be," Chris said. "It's way past his bedtime. You tired? Want me to warm some food up for you?"

"Please," Armie said, kissing Chris' ear. "I'm starving."

"Do male models eat carbs?" Chris joked, his hands coming up under Armie's T-shirt, feeling skin, fingers brushing against hair and abs. "It's all I have to offer."

"Stop," Armie said, goosebumps coming up on his skin in the wake of Chris' fingers. "I'd eat anything right now."

A few minutes later, Armie was at the kitchen counter, eating crispy smashed potatoes with sour cream and tri tip that Chris had tossed on the grill haphazardly, hoping for the best. Based on how quickly Armie was eating it, it seemed to have turned out just fine.

"So good," Armie said, his mouth half full. Chris smiled and handed him a beer, getting a thankful expression back. Chris had a way of knowing what Armie wanted all the time. It was a talent and something Armie appreciated more than anything. "You have a good day today?"

It was a question Chris didn't hear from Armie that often. They spent so much of their time together that Armie usually knew without asking. Even when Armie was off at set, they were usually messaging each other, making sure everything was going according to schedule. Having Armie off at a photo shoot all day was an anomaly. 

"Pretty quiet," Chris said, leaning against the counter across from Armie. "Euan was exhausted after practice, he was practically falling asleep at dinner. Good thing he finished his homework before."

"But how was your day?" Armie asked. "Aside from Euan." 

Chris was taken aback and looked up at the ceiling, wondering himself just how his day went. "I'm always a little anxious," Chris said. "The surrogate had an appointment today and I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I'm honestly just drowning in so many ideas that I don't know which ones to go with."

"I'm guessing none of them have anything to do with nosy soccer moms and their cheating husbands?"

"If I wrote that book, we'd never be able to show our faces at the games. And they're not all cheating."

"And you write fiction," Armie joked.

"I'm workshopping an idea with David that's about this father-son thing where the dad is in a wheelchair and the kid feels obligated to stay with him instead of going out for what he wants. But it's still a little cliché and maybe too ... easy. So, maybe the son falls for the dad's nurse or something and she encourages him to go out and follow his passion but then he's got two reasons not to go."

"Sounds like you've got plenty of ideas," Armie said, taking another bite of his dinner.

"How was your shoot?"

"Boring," Armie said flatly. "I couldn't wait for it to be over."

Chris walked over to the counter, leaning over it, smiling at his husband. "I like seeing pictures of you."

Armie blushed, looking down at his food. "You want to see some of them?" He slid his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Chris. There was a photo of them him and Euan on his lock screen, with Euan in his soccer kit and Chris in his usual getup, black leather jacket and dark jeans, hugging on the pitch after a game. There was something in Euan's expression that always that hit Chris right in the heart. It was admiration mixed with happiness, two things that were way too rare, Chris thought.

The phone unlocked automatically after it scanned Chris' face and he navigated to the photos. There were photos of Armie wearing a turtleneck and slacks while riding on a bike, his white button-up revealing a swathe of chest hair. Another showed him in black and white, his dark suit striking a sharp contrast against a light-colored wall. It wasn’t' groundbreaking, but Chris had to admit that Armie looked incredible. 

"Is this supposed to be like you're on a set?" Chris asked, turning the phone to show Armie another photo where he's holding a script and walking past a boom mic and a cameraman.

"It was pretty sparse for a multimillion-dollar brand like Brioni," Armie explained. He watched as Chris scrolled through a few more as Armie watched his expression.

"What are you thinking in this one?" Chris asked, handing the phone back. It was a close-up shot of Armie's face, his jaw tight and his eyes looking into the distance.

Armie leaned in close, his forehead almost touching Chris'. "That time you and Sebastian were both on my dick," Armie said, doing his best to sound serious. All the acting classes in the world couldn't hold up to Chris' face scrunching into a mix of laughter and disgust.

"Don't make me regret that," Chris said, giggling. "Or take it off the table."

"For what it's worth, I think about those nights...often."

Chris rolled his eyes. "He fed the turtle earlier. I'm going to try to read a few chapters of the galley that David sent me," Chris said. "Can you run the dishwasher?"

"Hold on," Armie said. "Want to meet me out back with your book? I can light the fire."

"Okay," Chris said. "I really have to read it though. No distractions."

"No distractions," Armie repeated.

A few minutes later, Chris had his head in Armie's lap and his Kindle in his hands, the sound of the water gently slapping against the concrete below them. Armie wanted to talk, to ask Chris what he thought of the script he was reading or what he wanted to do about Euan's soccer camps, but he let Chris have his quiet time. It was important to him. Armie could hear the crickets, too, and every time he ran his fingers through Chris' hair or stroked his cheek, he could feel Chris lean into the touch.

"This is about a family that loses everything in a fire," Chris said. "And the wife discovers that her husband had a whole other family and the husband actually has to take her to the other woman's house because they literally have nothing."

"Not really your style," Armie said.

"The writing is good," Chris said, skimming one more page. "The story jumps around too much for me."

"What are you going to say about it?"

"Something like, 'A promising new American voice,'" Chris said, looking up at Armie. "On my first book, I had Jonathan Safran Foer say, 'Phenomenally brilliant.' I'll never forget that. I would use that on every book if I could."

"You are phenomenally brilliant," Armie said. "You just don't see it from where you're looking."

"When I can't figure out how to put a story together, I don't feel brilliant," Chris said.

"Nobody is as hard on you as you are," Armie said, sweeping Chris' hair off his forehead.

"Is that script new?"

"It's new," Armie said. "By a 'promising new American voice' that sold the script to Anapurna and now they're shopping it around to directors."

Chris yawned and stretched his legs, "I don't miss being on set and dealing with rewrites."

"Nobody expects a screenwriter to be on set. You just went above and beyond," Armie said. His fingers were still in Chris' hair. "I like when your hair gets like this. It's how I know summer's here."

Chris glanced at the time on his Kindle before shutting it off. Armie had given him exactly 24 minutes of uninterrupted silence. Chris set his e-reader aside and sat up, pushing his hair -- sun-kissed strands and all -- off his forehead, resting his head on Armie's shoulder, and holding his hand, both of them focusing on the flickering flames of the fire. It was how most evenings ended after Euan went to bed and Chris and Armie found some quiet time.

"The museum fundraiser is this weekend," Armie said. Chris knew. It was on his calendar even though they'd skipped out on it for the past few years. Dru was getting more insistent on It this year, especially since Chris had a book out. She kept her thumb on the pulse of the headlines and knew that she could snag a little attention if Chris and Armie showed up while his book was still sitting on the top of the bestseller list. "What do you think?"

"Lari Pittman, right?"

"Who?"

Chris chucked. "The artist in the exhibition. He does these huge collages. He's from here. L.A., I mean."

Armie kissed Chris' temple, "Would I like it?"

"I'm sure you would," Chris said. "It's cool."

"So, should we meet the guy and get my mom off our backs?"

Chris let out a soft sigh. "Do we have a choice or not?"

"Sebastian already said he'd babysit."

"I hate when you do that. Just tell me we have to go."

"Sorry," Armie said. "Really. I just don't think we can skip it again."

"If I didn't love you so much, I'd hate you for this."

***

Armie had done everything he needed to. Ever the dutiful son, he'd posed with Chris at the step and repeat, had a few taken with his mom, and even chatted up a few donors, the really important ones that had their names etched on the wall of the museum lobby right under his. And now, while most of the guests were milling around to admire the art, he was genuinely smiling as he saw Chris talking to the artist. Armie grabbed a beer from a passing tray and made his way towards his husband.

"The prodigal son returns."

"Nice to see you, too, Vik. How's New York treating you?"

"Keeps me away from you and mom," he said. "So, I'd say pretty good. I wish I could see Euan more, though."

"Chris is very impressed that you managed to get Pittman in here."

"Did you at least tell him I did all the legwork? I was flying out here so often I was thinking about moving back into the old house."

"I didn't have to tell him," Armie said. "He knows how hard you work for the museum. Especially since we don't do anything and we're board members. Sorry about that, by the way."

"No, I get it," Viktor said. "It's fine. There's a life out there that doesn't involve talking to mom all day long and getting art on these walls."

"Don't forget the whole foundation and the trust, don't sell yourself short."

It wasn't just geography that kept Armie from his brother. After Chris and then after Euan, Armie's priorities shifted. Friday night dinners were one thing, but he wanted to raise Euan away from things like museum galas and honorary chairman positions. For all he knew, his dads were a writer and someone who made movies. This upper-crust existence was something Armie wanted to keep at arm's length. When Euan was older, he'd have his name carved on the wall, too, and Armie wanted to postpone that for as long as possible. He'd give Euan a normal childhood. No jumping from Texas to the Caymans to California, where he'd be made fun of for his weird accent. There'd be no overbearing parent to compensate for one that was almost too relaxed. Armie was doing his best to give Euan the stability he wanted so bad as a kid. 

"When are you leaving? Come by and see the kid. He has his games on Saturdays, but you probably aren't going to be around for a whole week."

"I'm out Monday," Viktor said. "And I'll take you up on a visit. I can't have Euan forgetting about me. It's been long enough that I don't remember what a pain it is to get to Venice Beach." He paused. "Look at you. A dad. I didn't think you'd ever be tied down like this."

"There's something really nice about getting home at the same time every day and going to soccer practice and just being able to spend as much time with him as I want. It's not like what we had."

"You want to adopt me? Sounds like a pretty great life."

"You're doing just fine," Armie said. "Otherwise, I'd hear about it from mom."

"He looks really good," Viktor said, motioning to Chris. "Healthy. Glowing."

"He runs a lot," Armie said. "And the kid keeps us on our feet."

"Didn't I catch you two making out last time you were here?"

Armie blushed. "Maybe. It's happened. Let me know when you're in town next, alright? I'm going to try and get out of here soon."

"Last one in, first one out. When did you start getting so antisocial?"

"I don't know. It's just not my scene right now. I missed reading with to Euan tonight, missed making sure he packed his backpack for tomorrow. That means more to me than any of this."

"I won't argue with that," Viktor said. He pulled his brother in for a hug. "Give my best to Chris. I said 'hi' earlier, but it was quick."

It'd been so long since Armie had been at one of these events, but it didn't take much to get back into the routine. Saying hi to this person, grabbing a drink from a passing cater waiter, keeping an eye out for Chris, and answering questions from the few reporters that were covering the event. It was all tailor-made for the society pages that his mom pored over every month. The possibility of getting coverage in "Town & Country" or "Vogue" wasn't just good for the museum, it was good for her ego. There was a time when he'd pursue it, too, but that was long gone. Now, it was more important to get meaningful interviews in, not just a picture of him smiling in a glossy magazine.

Every time Chris tried to get to Armie, he got pulled back, whether it was by the "L.A. Times" or "Art in America." Everyone wanted him to talk about his "The End: Part One," which made him rethink the whole sudden release thing. People were actually interested in books, at least some people. He made a mental note for next time. This particular experiment failed when it came to drumming up anticipation, but people wanted to know more, which was great and new. The approach had its pros and cons.

"You look great," Chris heard. "I'd be mad at you if I wasn't so madly in love with you."

"Maggie," Chris said, his whole demeanor softening and his heart swelling. It'd been years since they'd spoken to each other. Her arms wrapped around him and so many emotions rushed through him that Chris almost forgot how to breathe. "You're here. In L.A."

"I make the trip sometimes," she said. "Just like you head to New York and don't say a word."

Chris looked down at his shoes, "There's no excuse. Life is just a lot sometimes."

"I get it, I'm just teasing," she said. She reached out and held Chris' hands in her own. "I read your book. I read them all. This one was amazing."

"Thank you. It means everything coming from you."

"What's going on?" She asked, looking Chris in the eyes. It was so familiar, but it felt like looking back into another time. "I'm not mad. We all have lives to live. Don't feel bad, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm sorry," Chris said. "I just don't know what happened. I never meant to just ... I don't even know. Just disappear."

"You're doing incredible. I keep up," she said. "Not that you make it easy. You and your husband keep things out of the news."

"You shouldn't have to do that. You should call. Or text. I wouldn't ever ignore you."

"That goes both ways," Maggie said.

"I'll be better."

"Tell me about him. I want to hear everything."

"Armie or my kid?"

"I know all about Armie," Maggie said. She grabbed his hand, "Tell me about that tattoo on your finger and tell me all about your son. And show me pictures."

Chris let out a soft laugh. It was so easy just sliding back into conversation with her. "Armie had a tattoo on his finger. 'EC.' They were his ex's initials."

"Unfortunate," Maggie said.

"But now, it's Euan Christopher. Just because those letters meant something a long time ago doesn't mean that they can't stand for something important in his life now. It's what I told him when he was going to get it removed. Under his wedding ring, you can't even really see it."

"And you got EA. Who knew you were so sentimental?" Maggie finally let go of Chris' hand, her smile even bigger than before.

"It was spontaneous. We were out and had just gotten Korean barbecue. I sometimes forget it's even there, honestly. My ring covers it for the most part," Chris said. "Nobody really knows."

"Now, show me pictures. Show me every picture you've ever taken of him."

Across the courtyard, Armie was occupied with a reporter from the "Los Angeles Times," though he kept his eye line focused on Chris over the reporter's shoulder. Armie wasn't even sure he was saying the right things, he was so distracted. Barb needed him to talk up his partnership with Brioni, to make sure and mention his directorial work, and, of course, drop some hints about the movie that was about to be released. Any other night, it would have been nothing. Tonight, with Chris looking as handsome as he did in his suit, and the complicated dynamic we had going on with his mom, he knew he was sounding incoherent at best and, at worst, completely stupid.

When Armie found himself stumbling over his words, he excused himself, apologizing and hoping that the reporter got what she needed. Armie's head wasn't in the right place, not when it was occupied with keeping his mom happy, making sure his husband felt comfortable, and knowing that his kid was at home. He shook his head. Chris was an adult. Euan was with Sebastian. Armie was the only one who was worrying. 

"I'm sorry," he said to the reporter again. "Can we start over? I just needed to check in with our babysitter and you'll have my full attention."

A few minutes later, Chris was taking big gulps of water, his throat dry from talking to Maggie and then Lari, who actually turned the conversation on him when he realized the Christopher Hammer he was talking to was the Christopher Hammer who wrote some of his favorite books. Chris never got the chance to speak at length with a fan, much less one that was as high-profile as this, and he couldn't keep from blushing and shying away from the compliments.

"Am I interrupting?" Armie said, wrapping his arm around Chris' waist.

"I'm not talking to anyone," Chris said, kissing his cheek. "Even if I was, it's never stopped you."

"I didn't want to interrupt your thinking." Armie pressed his forehead to Chris', smiling as he ran his hands up Chris' arms to rest on his shoulders. "Should we head home?"

"One stop first," Chris said, planting a soft kiss on Armie's lips.

***

"I can smell it on you," Sebastian said. "You can't even deny it."

"It wouldn't have been good if we brought it back," Chris said. He watched as Armie undressed without even changing his stride in from the front door. Jacket off, tossed over a chair. Shirt unbuttoned, leaving Armie in nothing but a ribbed tank top as he sat down at a kitchen stool, his fingers combing through his hair as he settled in.

"I had too many fries," he said, stretching his arms up over his head.

"How'd it go?" Sebastian asked as he and Chris settled in around the kitchen island, everyone in their usual spots.

"About as exciting as these things can get," Chris said. "You know how it is."

"You talked to Maggie," Armie reminded him.

"Oh yeah, that happened," Chris said. "She might come around tomorrow night if she can fit it in. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Armie said. "That's cool with me."

"Did he give you any trouble?" Chris asked Sebastian.

Sebastian shook his head, yawning. "He's old enough to know not to misbehave. He's not a kid anymore."

"He's a kid," Armie assured Sebastian. "But he's always on his best behavior when you're around."

"I'm exhausted," Chris said. "I'm going to head upstairs. Thank you again, Sebs." He leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Love you."

"One more time," Armie said, smiling.

"I'll taste like cheeseburger and chocolate shake," Chris said as he made his way out. "I'll get you next time, Sebastian. Double-doubles on me."

"Grab two glasses. I've got a bottle of scotch we need to get to," Armie said.

"We need to talk about how you're obsessed with me kissing your husband," Sebastian joked. "Get a new fetish."

"I like what I like, what can I say?" Armie said, grabbing the fresh bottle from the cabinet on top of the fridge. "25 years old. Remember 25?"

"I was on 'Gossip Girl,' so I'd rather forget it," Sebastian said, following Armie out onto the back patio. Armie handed him the bottle and Sebastian poured himself two fingers' worth. It smelled smoky when he brought it to his mouth. "Smooth. Real smooth."

Armie took a slow sip and nodded. "Good stuff." He kicked his feet up onto the edge of the fire pit, his eyes focused on the inky blue night sky and the sound of hidden crickets and waves crashing in the distance. "My mom drives me crazy sometimes. She only cares that people think she's all about charity work and being an arts patron. She comes to, what, every third soccer game? She only wants to be Euan's grandma when it's convenient for her."

"She loves him, though," Sebastian said.

"I know she does. I just want her to at least look like she's trying." He took a long sip before looking over at Sebastian. "It's a lost cause with Chris. I get that. But Euan should have a good relationship with his grandma. He only has one."

Sebastian nodded. He and Euan had talked a lot about how they were alike. Sebastian wasn't adopted, but he did have a stepdad. He was an only child, too, so the two of them had more in common than anyone ever realized, even Chris and Armie.

"You think that she'll figure it out?" Sebastian asked. "Are things ever going to change?"

"I hope they do," Armie said. He leaned over to turn on the fire pit. A few snaps later and both of them were bathed in a warm glow. "We just have to keep trying."

"It's been a long time," Sebastian said before taking another sip himself. It was some of the best scotch he'd ever had.

"You think we can handle another one?" Armie asked, smiling again. "Can you imagine this house with four people? A girl, even?"

Sebastian watched Armie's entire demeanor soften. He was enamored already with just the thought of having a little girl. "Everything's good with that?"

"As good as it can be, according to the doctor."

"Euan's not concerned. I don't think he has any idea what a big deal it is."

"He only cares about soccer," Armie said. "Chris gets worried sometimes. All that focus on one thing, he thinks that Euan needs a backup plan, but he's dead set on playing that game forever."

"Sounds like all of us," Sebastian said. "Did you have anything as backup? Did Chris?"

"We're all very, very lucky," Armie said. "We all found each other. What are the odds of that?"

"You're going to make me blush," Sebastian deadpanned.

Armie chuckled. "Not just that...and don't get me wrong, that's...very nice. But I know you keep Chris sane when everything around him is just so unpredictable."

"Goes both ways. I wouldn't run every morning if I didn't have someone doing it with me," Sebastian said. "I just got stuck with you."

"Did you ever meet Jake?" Armie asked, surprised that the words came out. It had taken this long for them to talk about it. Scotch mixing with whatever he'd had at the event earlier, all mixed with seeing Maggie, it just came out.

"No," Sebastian said. "Not while they were together."

"His sister's nice. Really nice. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like if I met Chris before the divorce. Before my divorce."

"You're together now. None of that matters."

"Moments of weakness come when you don't expect them," Armie said.

"You two done?" Chris asked from the back door. His hair was still damp and Sebastian could see a pink flush on his skin from the hot water. He had a pair of running shorts on and nothing else. "You want me to make up the sofa bed, Seb? You can spend the night."

"I'm okay," he said, tossing back the rest of his drink. It didn't burn at all on the way down. That's how he knew it was the good stuff.

"Thanks again for watching him," Chris said.

"Chris," Armie said, making both Chris and Sebastian turn their heads. He got up, putting his glass down on the edge of the firepit, and gave Chris a quick kiss before his lips grazed the soft skin of Chris' ear. "Show him how much we appreciate it."

"Right here?" Chris asked, his gaze looking over to Sebastian, who settled back in his chair just slightly his legs opening up the tiniest bit.

"Don't you want to?" Armie asked, his hand tracing along the soft ridges of Chris' abs.

"I always want to," Chris said before kissing him again, a little deeper, a little more tongue.

"You want to?" Armie asked Sebastian over his shoulder.

Sebastian gave a slight shrug and didn't object when Chris closed the space between them and got down on his knees. Armie got back into his favorite spot, across from his husband and his best friend, and smiled as Sebastian pulled his T-shirt up and off and Chris' head already slowly bobbing up and down.

***

"Shit," Chris said, pushing Sebastian's arm off of him. "Get off. The kid is going to bolt in here any minute." Sebastian only grunted in response, holding on tighter to the warmth of Chris' chest. "Wake up."

Armie's eyes fluttered open with the commotion and he stretched, not fully understanding what was going on with the complex tangle of arms and legs. It was definitely more than usual. Then, he saw Sebastian draped over Chris and everything from last night flash through his mind again. 

"Up, up," Armie said, gracefully sliding out of bed. There was no shame in their occasional romps, but Euan didn’t need to know about them. He tossed Sebastian his underwear -- he hoped it was Sebastian's -- and pulled on his own. He watched as Chris and Sebastian fumbled their way out from underneath the covers, definitely noticing how their touch lingered a little and smiling when Chris leaned in to kiss Sebastian's chest, right over his heart.

Like clockwork, there was a knock at the door. "We'll be right out, kiddo," Chris said. "Meet you in the kitchen. Can you grab the eggs and put them out on the counter?"

The three of them could hear Euan pad away down the hall. "Fuck," Chris muttered under his breath. He was sore all over. "You have to take it easy on me, guys." He glanced in the mirror to see all the marks on his back and shoulders. Bites, light bruises, and scratches were peppered across everything.

Armie came over to take a closer look, dusting soft kisses over Chris' skin. There was a certain sense of competition that came over him when Sebastian joined in. It brought something out of him, out of both of them. Chris bore the brunt of it, though he'd be the first to admit that he wasn't discouraging either one of them to take it easy on him.

"Sorry," Sebastian said, his brow furrowing as he looked over at the two of them, Armie all long arms and legs and Chris' lithe body tanner than usual thanks to the summer sun. His dick was getting hard seeing them together.

"Felt right in the moment," Chris said as he pulled an old T-shirt on and headed out.

"Is he mad?" Sebastian asked Armie.

"No, not at all," Armie said, letting out a quick yawn. "Don't worry about it."

Euan was already halfway through his scrambled eggs and avocado toast when Sebastian and Armie got downstairs. Chris offered a kiss to Armie and two coffees. 

"Hey, we have some guests coming later," Chris told Euan. "So, after your game, we have to get you cleaned up real quick, okay?"

"Who is it?" Euan asked.

"My friend Maggie and her husband and her two daughters," Chris said, already working on more eggs. "They're all visiting from New York."

Sebastian glanced over at Armie, but since they were all just waking up, it was tough to read his expression. Everything with the Gyllenhaals was so, so far in the past, but he still didn't know exactly what Armie thought of having Chris' ex-sister-in-law over. It was harmless, but emotions weren't rational.

"Are we having dinner? What's going on with that, exactly?" Armie asked.

Chris shrugged, "I'll figure it out and let you know. Seb, you want to meet them? You're more than welcome to come over, too."

"Yeah," Sebastian said. Experiencing it firsthand would be easier than asking Chris or Armie about it after the fact. It wasn't like he had plans. Chris busied himself with breakfast and Sebastian could feel himself coming back to life with every sip of coffee. 

"Gonna get a W today?" Armie asked Euan.

"3-0," Euan said confidently. "We haven't lost one game this season."

Chris took his usual stool next to Armie and felt an arm come around his waist almost immediately after he sat down. He doused his eggs and avocado in hot sauce and dug in, suddenly very hungry and very aware that he had a full schedule today, which almost never happened. Being in a bubble of soccer and working from home was his normal. Having guests over to his house wasn't at all normal. Thankfully, everything seemed presentable now that Euan had grown out of his toy phase.

"Thanks for making breakfast," Armie said, kissing Chris' temple.

"Can you feed the turtle and make sure he has water?" Chris asked Euan. "And get your stuff together for the game?"

Euan dutifully followed his directions, leaving his dads and his godfather in the kitchen. "What does he know about your relationship with Jake, exactly?" Sebastian asked Chris.

"He knows that his dads were divorced," Chris said. "C'mon, we live in L.A. Just about all the kids in his class have divorced parents and stepparents. He's remarkably unaware of how normal this all is."

"I wouldn't call it normal," Armie said, smiling.

"It's our normal."

***

"All this and you're going to move?" Maggie asked, looking out at the panorama of canals and blue sky. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vivid hues of orange and red.

"We'd need more room," Armie explained. "But we'd stay in the area. Maybe ditch the whole historic house thing, though. It's a lot of trouble."

"I can imagine. It'd be tough to give this up," she said, eyes shut and her head turned up, feeling the last bits of warmth from the sky. "This is incredible, it makes me almost want to move out here."

The girls were shy, but Euan's exuberance and outgoing personality seemed to get them to open up and they talked about school and the turtle, which was endlessly fascinating for kids that grew up in New York. Euan had the privilege of being able to see it all, New York on quick trips with his dads, vacations in the Caymans courtesy of his daddy's dad, and weekends up in Santa Barbara. Because Maggie and Peter were so involved in plays and productions on the East Coast, the girls didn’t get to see much of L.A., even though their uncle Jake insisted that they could come out and stay with him. 

"It's good for us," Armie said. "Good for the kid. Everything is about him now. I'm sure you know the feeling."

"I've never seen him so happy," Maggie said. "It's a different kind of joy I get from him now. Incredible."

Armie motioned towards one of the chairs and Maggie took a seat, crossing her legs and spreading her arms out. "Definitely something I can get used to. We have a terrace but it doesn't even come close to this."

Upstairs, Chris showed Peter his office, his awards gleaming as usual. Armie took more pride in them than Chris did, making sure that they always looked their best.

"When are they going to rename the National Book Award to the Christopher Hammer Award for Literary Excellence?" Peter joked. His eyes scanned over the spines of Chris' books, all lined up in chronological order on a shelf, the name shifting from Lewis to Gyllenhaal to Hammer. There, in hardcover and paperback, was Chris' entire life's work. It all fit on one shelf.

"I saw you on TV. They were saying how you're an award-winning author and screenwriter and all these other things," Peter said, plopping down on the worn leather loveseat across from Chris' desk. "I felt really proud of you."

"It's all a lot," Chris said, shuffling through one of his desk drawers. "It all sort of happens and I always feel like I'm flying off a cliff."

"You've managed to land on your feet," Peter said. "What are you looking for?"

"Found it," Chris said triumphantly. He got up and sat down next to Peter, a man that he'd looked up to for so long as a father figure, a big brother, and a friend. He handed over a photo that was taken so long ago that Peter still had a full head of hair. They were smiling on top of a roof somewhere; the background was too out of focus to really tell. "Remember this? It was right after Maggie told everyone that she was pregnant again."

"A fucking lifetime ago," Peter said, smiling as he examined the photograph.

"This is me right now," Chris said. "Just hoping that I can figure out life with two kids."

"You'll be fine," Peter said. "Nobody ever feels ready for something like that, but trust me, it's just something that works itself out. You'll see."

Euan's head popped into the office, along with Ramona and Gloria's, smiles on all of their faces. "You want to show Peter your trophies?" Chris asked. "He just saw mine but yours are so much cooler."

"I heard you're going to go pro soon," Peter said. Chris watched the interaction closely. It was so, so easy for Peter, just like it was for Armie. Chris was fine with Euan, but other kids were different. It was hard for him, he didn't always know to kneel down to get onto their level, always forgot how kids liked to go on and on with stories that had no clear direction. Peter listened as Euan told him about his dreams of playing in front of huge sell-out crowds like the games his dads took him to. How he was practicing his backflips in case that was what his goal celebration would be. Everyone followed Euan into his bedroom, which wasn't as neat as it should have been, Chris noticed, but was fine otherwise. The trophies were lined up, medals hanging alongside them on the wall, his framed photo with David Beckham proudly displayed alongside it all. There wasn't a photo of him with his dads anywhere. Those were downstairs. Up here, it was David and a singular photo of him and Sebastian the very first time they'd gone to swimming lessons together. Chris didn't know why that one in particular got a place of honor, but he was sure Euan had his reasons.

"Did you guys manage to find Turtle?" Chris asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"He was under a chair," Ramona said.

"He's big, right? Fast, too," Chris added. "He'll zip around the back patio all the time when it's sunny."

Peter leaned close to Chris after the kids headed downstairs. He'd heard the front door open, which meant the pizzas had arrived. As much as Chris wanted to impress his ex-in-laws, when there were three kids in the picture, it was an easy decision to make.

"We all miss you," Peter said. "Not just the girls, not just Maggie. Jake will have one too many beers and say that it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made."

"Still?" Chris asked, looking down at his shoes.

"Less and less. It makes me cringe every time, but I'm so happy for you. For all of this." He pulled Chris into a hug. "Things work out for the best."

"The girls are so big," Chris said, reaching out to feel Peter's forearm, his fingertips moving down to graze his knuckles. His fingers squeezed Peter's. "I want to be as good a dad as you. For real. I ask myself what Peter would do in so many situations. So many times, every single day."

"You're giving me too much credit," Peter said. "Nobody knows what to do. We all hope that what we're doing is the right thing."

When everyone made their way downstairs, the kids gathered around the patio. Armie had his hand around Chris' waist as everyone else stood at the island. Chris had gotten so used to the house being a certain way, with the same four people in and out all the time, the same routine, even the same pizza, but today, with so many smiling faces and more noise and laughter than he could ever remember, it all felt right, too. He looked over at Armie, who cocked his head a little, a questioning expression on his face. Chris leaned in closer and kissed his jaw, whispering "I love you" so quietly that he could barely hear it himself.

\---

feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	12. Chapter 12

"Kiss already," the caption read. Chris held in a laugh. If only the internet knew. It was just an innocent photo of him and Sebastian getting coffee, something they did almost every single day together. Post-run, they both looked flush and, sure, Chris thought, maybe their legs were touching under the table, but coffee shops aren't known for sumptuous leather booths. He clicked on the tag to see more and almost choked on his water.

"Some of them are very convincing," Sebastian said, grinning.

"There is more on me and you than me and Armie," Chris said as he finally put his phone down. 

"If something actually leaked, people would think it's a doctored photo," Sebastian said. "So, there's no reason to hold back. We can make out whenever, wherever."

"Ready?" Chris asked, standing as he finished the last of his coffee. Just like in the paparazzi photo, the two of them were wearing their running clothes and getting coffee. The picture could have been taken last week, last month, last year, even. Chris knew it was a slow news day when photos as mundane as that got posted online.

"Should I get one to go? I need the energy after the extra mile you put us through."

"Had a lot on my mind this morning," Chris said. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Sebastian insisted.

"I'll make you one before our call," Chris said.

The two of them could make the walk blindfolded. They knew every bump in the sidewalk, knew exactly when they had to walk behind one another to avoid an unruly hedge, and which turns to take to avoid chatty neighbors. It let them walk and talk, Sebastian's hands gesturing wildly like they always did and Chris listening intently to every word. Sebastian's stories from the set were always more exciting than anything Chris had to share, especially since Sebastian was usually involved with everything he did with Euan and Armie, anyway. Like clockwork, they got home to find Armie in the kitchen, his laptop open on the island and every back door open to let in the fresh Pacific Ocean air.

"You two ready?"

"It's a sure thing," Chris said. "We're just making sure all the paperwork is in line."

"It's a big deal," Armie said. "For you and for all the people you'll be helping."

"Everyone told me to never get into the business with my friends," Sebastian said. "I'm ready to prove them all wrong."

"Alright," Armie said. "Good luck, you guys."

"Good luck to you, too," Chris said. "I'll see you after school. Let me know if there's good news."

Chris got one more kiss before he excused himself to grab his own laptop from his office. When he came back down, Sebastian had popped a slice of bread into the toaster, the scent filling the kitchen just a few seconds later.

"OK," Sebastian said. "I'm feeling good about this. People think you're connected to super-cool writers, even though I know you don't talk to anyone but me. It's perfect."

"It's about optics," Chris said.

"Nobody gets everything right the first try," Sebastian said. Chris jumped when he heard the toaster, startled by the noise over his shoulder.

"You want an avocado?" Chris asked, his eyes going back to his computer.

"I can handle it," Sebastian said as he moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease. Starting something from scratch was never easy. It was doubly hard when it was something as conceptual as an incubator for writers, directors, and artists. They were looking for underwriting, some business mentorship. Chris and Sebastian had connections, but they weren't in the right places. They had no idea how to set up a business. Luckily, their people knew people, which is how they managed to snag a call with a mentor that promised to help them out. All they needed to do was put together a business plan. Now that they were past the initial meetings and had a little bit of faith behind them, it was time to show that they were serious about it.

Chris reached for a banana. He was too nervous to eat anything substantial, but he stood up to make some coffee after sending an email. A lot was going on aside from this call. The surrogacy agency was supposed to send them an update today, too.

"Don't pace," Chris said.

"Can't help it. It's what I do when I'm anxious."

***

Armie wasn't mad at all the scripts he'd read, he was just disappointed. Either he wasn't getting the stuff he'd asked for or writers were being distracted by penning superhero movies and nothing else. When this happened, he did what he and Barb always did. They googled Chris' name. With so many books and contracts swirling around him, there was always something to see. Most of the projects were dead. Chris sold the film rights, but production either never got off the ground -- which is what happened the most -- or different companies were still working on adapting the book into a movie. No matter what, Chris always had a final review of the scripts, just to make sure nothing was too egregious. He had an amazing track record. Every book had its rights sold almost right away, some even before the books were published. Winning awards helped. Having a reputation didn't hurt, either, and when big-name stars and directors were clamoring to get in on a project attached to Christopher Hammer, studios all wanted first dibs.

"What's that right there?" Armie asked, pointing to a particular line item. "What is that production company?"

"Nine Stories Production," Barb said, scanning the monitor. "It's a small company that's ... it's Jake Gyllenhaal's company."

"Excuse me," Armie said. "Jake Gyllenhaal? 'American Made' came out after they got divorced. What's going on?"

"All I know is that he's got the rights. The only person who would know the details is Chris, his agent, and Jake Gyllenhaal."

"That's really strange," Armie said, leaning closer to the computer like it would reveal something else. This didn't add up.

"How good are you at convincing him to write you a script?"

"I can't convince him of much," Armie said, his jaw tight. "OK. Well, we have to keep looking."

"It's not all bad. Pixar wanting you back for more voice work is great. They don't do that."

"Yeah," Armie said, feigning a smile. "Thanks for everything. When we get that contract figured out, that's a definite go. I'll sell my life for Disney."

"Your friend Sebastian pretty much did," Barb added. "Nine films. A TV series. That's no joke."

"And he got a BAFTA," Armie said. "If he wasn't such a great guy, I'd hate him."

"Is there a Tim Burton-Johnny Depp thing happening with Chris and Sebastian? It's good for press that they keep working together. People like it."

"People like the gossip," Armie clarified.

"Whatever it is, it's working," Barb said. "David said that Chris and Sebastian have a lot in the pipeline."

"Yeah," Armie said. "Can we push on that Kenneth Branagh project? I want to try some of that old-school noir thing. You think they'll see me?"

"Look at you, Armie. If Branagh wants Old Hollywood, he'd be stupid not to cast you."

"Cool," Armie said, gathering his things. "I'm on pickup duty today. Sorry to cut this short."

"Give my love to Chris and Euan."

Half an hour later, Euan was settling into the back seat, explaining the intricacies of sedimentary rock as Armie took the familiar route home. Chris was usually the one with after-school duty, but Armie volunteered to take over today.

"Do you have any homework today?" Armie asked, glancing at Euan in the rear-view mirror.

"I have to get our pictures of the Grand Canyon for a science project. Are those on dad's computer or yours?"

"Mine," Armie said, not sure if they actually were. "Is that all?"

"Have we gone anywhere else with rocks?"

"I don't think so," Armie said. "What is the project, exactly?"

"Just to show different kinds of rocks," 

"That's cool," Armie said. He paused. "Do you want to spend the afternoon at Duke's house? I can drive you guys to practice or pick you guys up after."

Euan's eyes lit up. "Can he come over to see Turtle? He hasn't met him yet."

"Maybe another time?" Armie suggested. "I think it's easier for his dad to go to practice from their place." 

"That's cool," Euan said. "We need to do PKs today." It was his favorite thing to practice and Duke's, so everything worked out between them. For a goalie and a striker, there was no other part of the game that drew more attention than a penalty kick. Euan could do it for hours and not get sick of it.

"Great," Armie said. "I'll call his dad as soon as we get home." He let out a slow sigh. Jake cast a big shadow. It was something Armie rarely acknowledged, but a decade together, that was a very long time. Jake and Chris. It was easy to forget that Chris had an entire life before he met Armie. It was so easy for him to forget about it, because it was so easy to forget his own life before Chris. What they had together was more special and important than anything he'd ever had with anyone. That's why it hurt so much. It shouldn't, though, and Armie felt stupid for letting it get to him. Business wasn't what they'd signed up for. Chris had said it before. If Armie wanted to be a part of a movie that Chris wrote, he'd have to audition just like anyone else. To be fair, Sebastian had to, too. Chris didn't give anyone special treatment. Armie assumed it was because of everything that had happened with Jake. The press had eviscerated them more than once. Chris didn't need to go through that again.

"When can we go to a game?" Euan asked. "Can Robbie get us tickets again?"

"I'll check the schedule," Armie said. "We'll figure it out."

"I'm going to play for them one day," Euan said, his eyes looking out the car window, watching the trees and houses pass by. "And I'll get you and dad tickets to every game."

Armie smiled. Euan didn't know how to do anything small, his dads had made sure of that. When they pulled into the driveway, Euan bounded towards the house, tapping furiously at the keypad on the front doorknob before bolting inside. Armie wasn't as quick, but he made his way inside to find Chris and Sebastian in good spirits. That meant things went well.

"We got it. Officially a nonprofit incubator to serve underrepresented voices and perspectives in film and media," Chris said. He was practically buzzing with excitement. "Is that a good elevator pitch? Would you donate to us?"

"Congratulations," Armie said. "That's amazing. For both of you."

"We got our first backer," Sebastian said. "And we've got a documentarian and a director already on board. Everyone's excited."

Armie hugged Chris and kissed at his temple. "Euan's getting his stuff together, I'm going to take him to Duke's before they go to practice."

"Yeah he told us when he ran through here," Sebastian said. He looked over at Chris. "Wow, this is real."

"We're calling it Imaginary Friends," Chris added, his smile was so big that his cheeks hurt. "We're stupid like that."

"I like it," Armie said. "I'm so happy for you two." He felt his heart slow down, his breathing start to go back to normal.

"You got everything?" Chris asked as Euan came into the room, changed into his gear, a string bag in his hands. "Do you want a snack or anything? We have apples. Cheese. I think there's chocolate pudding in the fridge."

"I can get it," Euan said, offering Sebastian a high five as he walked around the island to get an apple. "And I know that pudding is for you."

"I was being polite," Chris said, holding in a laugh. 

"I'll be back in 20," Armie said, giving Chris a quick kiss. "Good job, you two. It's exciting." He walked over to Sebastian and hugged him tight, whispering, "I'm going to need to speak to my husband alone when I get back, OK?"

A chill shot down Sebastian's spine. In all the time he'd known Armie, he'd never heard that sort of tone before. "I'll see you...tonight then," Sebastian said, his words slow and his brow furrowing.

"Yeah we have to do something to commemorate this," Chris said. "I need to call everyone and let them know that we're legitimate now."

"Imagine being a struggling artist without the struggle," Armie said. "They're going to get soft."

***

Armie tossed his keys in the bowl by the front door, the familiar sound ringing through the quiet house. The afternoon sun made everything glow with a soft golden light as he walked towards the kitchen and the quiet tapping of Chris' laptop. He'd had time to think, calm down, and collect himself.

"Christopher," Armie said, standing across from him, the kitchen island and Chris' computer between them.

"Armand," Chris said, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

Armie bit his lip, scanning Chris' features. He looked relaxed and content. It was exactly what he should be feeling after the success that he and Sebastian had. "Barb and I were looking at a bunch of stuff for work and we saw that Jake owns one of your book's movie rights."

Chris sat up straight. "Yeah. He helped me out."

"I could have helped you," Armie said. "What was he doing when he helped you out?"

"Keeping my reputation intact," Chris said matter-of-factly. He let out a long sigh. "I was about to be irrelevant. He bought the film rights and I managed not to look like a failure by not selling it. It was smoke and mirrors."

"I could have helped you," Armie said. "I could have talked to people for you."

Chris looked Armie in the eyes. They were so, so blue, Chris was almost always taken aback by just how vibrant they were. "I felt like I let myself down. I didn't want to let you down, too," Chris said. "The movie's not happening, ever. I just needed studios to think that they lost out on the chance to do it."

"I wish you talked to me about it," Armie said. "And that you didn't keep it a secret."

"I haven't thought about it since the day I called him," Chris said, his voice getting a little quieter. "I was desperate."

"You really thought that not selling off one book would have made any difference?" Armie asked.

"It helped," Chris said, shutting his computer. "The momentum is there. I didn't want to take a step backward. I had to stay in everyone's minds, so I needed a favor. It was a parachute."

"Your parachute is your ex-husband," Armie said, exasperation his voice. "That makes me feel fucking great."

"I didn't do it to make you feel bad," Chris said. "I did it because it was the only thing I could think of doing. It's done. I don't know what else to say. I’m sorry."

"You didn't think that I could help you, but I could have. You just had to ask. We would have figured something out. Me and you, not you and Jake. When you panic, I should be your parachute."

Chris nodded, reaching across the island to touch Armie's hand. "I can't even tie a bow tie without you," Armie continued. "Everything I am, everything I do, it's because I know that you're right there with me. It's for you, for us."

"OK," Chris said, his voice soft. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't ever mean to hurt you by doing that."

"I'm here for you, whatever it is," Armie said again. He sighed and held onto Chris' hand. Chris leaned up, pressing his forehead against Armie's. "That's what this is. Me and you."

Armie kissed him softly, feeling Chris relax with the feather-light touch before he leaned in for more. "I'm still learning."

"Me too," Armie said, his lips brushing Chris'. "You really broke my heart."

"You seem to be doing just fine," Chris said. "I don't ever want to hurt you. I mean it."

They were quiet for a few more moments before Armie headed upstairs to finalize his contracts. If everything went according to plan, he'd be busy for the next few weeks and close to home. Voice work wasn't anything he thought he'd ever do, but at least it meant that Euan could watch the movie. He couldn't read Chris' books and Armie wasn't exactly known for making family-friendly material. This was good, to make something Euan could see and tell his friends about. Plus, Pixar movies always managed to get the right kind of attention. Being connected to that wouldn't hurt.

He fiddled with the things on Chris' desk, his extra frenetic energy making him straighten up the pens and notebooks. A tiny orange box caught his eye, standing out from everything else. He knew exactly what was inside, but he opened it anyway, just to look. It was the only thing that they'd gotten when they'd adopted Euan, aside from the clothes on his back and a bag of T-shirts, shorts, and flip-flops. Inside was a gold necklace with a cross hanging from it. He'd never worn it -- Armie wasn't sure if anyone had ever put it on him. It was the only thing left to connect him to his biological parents. Armie held it in his hand, wondering, like he always did when his mind wandered, when he and Chris would have to tell him that his mom wasn't with them anymore and that they had no idea where his father was.

"Chris let me in," Armie heard from the door. It was Nick, his perpetual tan looking even deeper than normal. He had his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and Armie could smell the beach on him. Sand and salt.

"Hey," Armie said as he dropped the necklace back in its box and got up. He pulled Nick into a hug and motioned for the sofa. "I didn't know you were around."

"Took a mental health day," Nick said. "What's going on? How's the kid?"

"I got a Pixar movie," Armie said, smiling. "Don't even have to get dressed to do voice work." He heard Nick chuckle. "Euan's good. Normal kid stuff."

"He's not a normal kid," Nick said.

They spent a few minutes catching up, though the more Nick described his nights out and the crazy state of L.A. real estate, Armie felt more and more removed from the conversation. They'd been spending less and less time together, partly because weekends were full for the both of them -- soccer for one and showing homes for the other -- and it was tough to coordinate things together. Armie thought back to the times they'd shut down bars, ignoring last call, and waking up hungover. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a hangover. It was so strange to hear Nick talk about his debauchery while Chris was downstairs, still wrestling with the ramifications of their talk a few minutes ago.

"Are you even listening?" Nick asked, noticing the glazed expression on his friend's face.

"I'm trying," Armie said. "I'm just distracted."

"I'm happy for your Disney gig," Nick said. "Pretend to be excited that the 'Hollywood Reporter' picked me as one of the top 30 realtors in L.A."

Armie had no idea the "Reporter" even ranked real estate agents. "I'm very proud of you," Armie said. "And it's Pixar. Which is a Disney thing, yeah, so you're right."

"How close are you to selling this place?" Nick asked, looking around the room. If Armie was going to talk business, Nick would, too, and try to get closer to the top of that list.

"When there's something a little bigger on the canals," Armie said. "I know that you know those don't come around often enough."

"If you weren't so picky," Nick insisted, "there's some stuff."

"It's Chris, not me," Armie said. "He planted his roots here. I'm not going to be the one that moves him away from this."

"He's from Santa Barbara," Nate reminded Armie. "He lived in the hills. He's lived all over."

"We have reasons," Armie said. "Euan. Soccer. I don't want him to be get mixed up with..."

"Famous-people kids," Nick finished for him. "I know. You don't have to say it."

"The last thing I need is for him to get mixed up with the wrong sort of kids. I'm sure they're not all bad, but right now, I'm not taking chances."

"Relax, dad. It's nothing we didn't do."

"I don't want him to do anything that we did."

***

"Do you need a receipt for your taxes?"

"Yeah, I guess," Chris said. He thanked the clerk when he handed it over, Everything was blank except for the location of the Goodwill and the date. "How do I know what to put as the value?"

"You estimate." 

Chris' question didn't merit anything more than a glib, canned answer. He didn't know how to value something that was so clearly worthless to anyone that didn't know the history behind it. How much was a hoodie worth if it was patched and threadbare, but also held onto so many memories that Chris was almost dizzy trying to think of a single one to remember. 

"Thank you," Chris said, mustering a weak smile. That hoodie, along with Euan's old clothes, was out of his hands now, hopefully off to new homes. More than likely, Chris thought, that hoodie would get tossed out, taken to wherever things go when even a Goodwill doesn't want them. Two tattered hoodies were even worse. He should have just tossed them into the garbage and spared himself the trip. He watched as the bag got tossed nonchalantly into a bin, joining all the other donations. "Thanks again," Chris said before he made his way back to the car.

"Everything good?" Armie asked when Chris settled into the passenger's seat. 

"Yeah," Chris said, handing Armie the slip of paper. "I just need to get a new grey hoodie."

"You finally tossed that old one?" Armie said. "It's about time. You're good at a lot of things, but patching up clothes isn't one of them."

Chris recalled Armie suggesting that he get a new one a long time ago, maybe when they first moved in together and had to consolidate their closets. He didn't say no outright, but Chris never thought to replace it and kept wearing it, even though it had seen better days years ago. There was no way he'd ever cut himself off from his past. There were books with Christopher Gyllenhaal on the cover still out there and he had his old wedding ring tucked away in the closet. He had no idea what to do with it. 

"Do we need to get it right now?" Armie asked, glancing down at his hand when Chris' moved to hold it, his eyes focused out the passenger-side window. His thumb ran slowly over Armie's knuckles.

"No," Chris said. "It's not important."

"You wore that all the time," Armie insisted.

"I've got plenty of other ones," Chris said.

"You can wear the Sharks one," Euan said, his voice carrying through the car. 

"I can wear my Sharks hoodie," Chris repeated, turning to look at Armie. "Thanks for reminding me, Euan."

A few minutes later, they were pulling up to Euan's school. PTA meetings weren't Chris' favorite, but it did give them all a chance to meet the other parents. Naturally, Armie fit right in, charming everyone from the teachers to the moms while Chris usually hung back, smiling and shaking hands if anyone approached him. 

"I'm going to get a coffee," Chris said, leaning in close to Armie's ear. His hand rested on Armie's abs and his lips were so close Armie could feel them brushing against his skin. "Do you want anything?"

"Water," Armie said. He looked over to see Euan with some of his classmates, huddled together while one of the teacher's aides watched over them. It looked like they were working on a puzzle.

Chris' fingers lingered on Armie's stomach before he headed off, hoping the line wasn't too long at the refreshment table. Soon, they'd be sitting down and listening to the principal speak on the importance of earthquake preparedness and how the school had a zero-tolerance bullying policy. It was the same every year. The gym was buzzing already and as more and more parents came in, it only got louder.

"There's a rumor going around," Chris heard. "Are you and Armie splitting up?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Chris said, looking up at her. It was one of the other parents. She looked like most of the other moms. Blonde hair, tan skin, always either coming from or going to the gym to squeeze in Pilates or yoga. Chris wished the parents at Euan's elite private school were just a little more like the parents at the soccer games. Less gossipy, more focused on the kids. "I'll tell you if I hear anything."

"I saw it online," she said. "I was kidding."

"I wasn't," Chris said back, almost too quickly.

Taken aback, she didn't respond.

"Have a good night," Chris said, flashing a smile. He took a few steps down the table, reaching for a bottle of water. 

"You can try to be a little nicer." It was Euan's teacher this time.

"Just putting out fires," Chris said. "He was reading one of my books. The new one. I don't know how far he got, but he might be traumatized."

"I think he gets that it's fiction. I wouldn't worry about it."

"If he turns out damaged, it's my fault," Chris said, letting out a soft laugh.

"That's the dad I'm used to. No need to be snarky."

"It's a defense mechanism," Chris said. "I don't really like these things."

"It'll be over soon," he said.

When Chris met up with Armie again, he was standing with a group of parents, laughing about something Chris didn't catch before he handed Armie his water. "There you are," he said, leaning over to kiss Chris' temple. "C'mon, it's time to sit down."

For half an hour, they all listened to the school principal talk about fire drills and earthquakes, just like Chris and Armie had expected. "Should we get In-N-Out after this?" Armie whispered in Chris' ear.

"They're talking about us," Chris said softly. "Someone asked if we were getting divorced."

"Let them talk," Armie said.

"If the parents are talking, that means the kids are talking," Chris said. He glanced around to see if anyone was paying them any attention. Most of the people in the room were on their phones.

"They're not, trust me," Armie said. "They talk about video games and bad TV shows."

"Let's get out of here," Chris said, standing up.

"Thank you, Mr. Hammer."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Chris said, his eyes darting around the room. All eyes were on him and he froze. "I ... just ... sorry."

Armie pulled him back into his folding chair. "Relax," Armie said. He turned to look at the principal. "We'll volunteer for whatever you need."

"Dad, are you OK?" Euan asked. Great, Chris thought. He was embarrassing his son.

"There's a lot of people talking about us," Chris said quietly. "It's not nice sometimes."

"What did you just volunteer us for?" Chris asked Armie.

"I have no clue," Armie said. "But I'll just make my mom do it. She eats that up."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	13. Chapter 13

Trigger warning: Family tragedy. No major character death.

Armie rubbed his eyes. He shouldn't have gone to work, but an entire production can't be put on hold because of one person. But he was on set, watching footage through a tiny screen and realizing that he wasn't even paying attention. He was worthless here. He was needed at home.

"Sorry, everyone. We're going to call it a day today," he said, standing up straight. Some of the crew looked appreciative. They'd been there early setting up. Everyone worked hard and Armie knew it. It didn't make sense for him to slow things down. The weakest link shouldn't be the director.

"I'm coming home," Armie said as soon as Chris picked up his phone. "How are you doing?"

"I'm OK," Chris said. Armie tried to make something out of his voice, tried to sense if there was something deeper, but two words was hardly enough to determine anything. "How are you?"

"I need to see you," Armie said, almost cutting Chris off. "I need you right now."

There was traffic. There was always traffic. Armie fought back so many emotions he lost count as he wove his way through the familiar route. 405. Exit Venice Boulevard. Past the Japanese market, behind the Costco. People were out living their lives, congesting the thoroughfares and slowing him down. It made Armie want to scream. When he managed to get home without crying, yelling, or pounding his fist through the horn on the steering wheel, he found Chris in the kitchen, staring out at the water. Chris pulled him into a hug and Armie felt his own body go slack, melting into the familiarity of Chris' arms. This is when the tears came out, his body shaking as he sobbed, finally letting the deluge of emotion fall free.

Chris rubbed Armie's back, struggling to stay upright. "I'm here," Chris said. "I'm here with you."

"We had names picked out," Armie said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Everything was going the way it was supposed to."

"I know," Chris said. He struggled to steady himself and led Armie to the sofa. Armie cried into his shoulder and Chris held his own tears back. The phone call had been heartbreaking. Losing the baby was almost unthinkable. Chris couldn't even imagine what the surrogate was going through. He wiped Armie's tears away and pressed their foreheads together, his eyes taking in Armie's usually cheerful features. Everything was twisted in a way Chris had only seen once or twice before. All those times, he was the reason. Today, it was different. Today, all the plans for a second child came to a halt. Today, they weren't a family of three waiting on a fourth. Today, they were a family of three that lost their fourth.

"I'm here," Chris said. "I'm here." He said it again and again, feeling Armie's body go slack, settling against him.

"Everything was going the way it was supposed to," Armie said. He slid down, resting his head in Chris' lap, his eyes unfocused, the bright light coming in from the back doors was too bright. He felt Chris' fingers stroking his hair and he was grateful for something that reminded him that this was real. This wasn't a nightmare. It just felt like one.

Armie shut his eyes and let out a long breath. Chris had somehow maneuvered himself so that he was sitting in Armie's lap, his hands resting on Armie's chest, hoping and willing for his heart to slow down.

"Tomorrow, you're going to wake up and you'll still have me and you'll have Euan," Chris said. "He's going to get home from school and we're going to have to just keep going. Soccer practice. Dinner. We keep going."

"We keep going," Armie said. Chris was eerily calm, he thought. The tears were there in his eyes, but they weren't falling. Maybe Armie was doing enough crying for the both of them. An email. A phone call. That's all it was. This morning, they were expecting a baby. Now, they weren't.

Armie rested his forehead against Chris' shoulder. Chris' fingers stroked his hair again, the tiniest feeling of comfort coming to him, spreading from the back of his neck down his back. Chris was talking, but Armie couldn't hear him. All he heard was the beating of his own heart in his ears, the throb of it echoing in his brain, another reminder that things really did have to keep going.

He let himself fantasize. That's where it went wrong. Armie knew that Chris was keeping the idea of the new baby at arms distance. He was realistic. Armie was romantic. He imagined what it would have been like to see Chris with a little girl, with an infant. They'd gotten Euan when he was a toddler. Armie wanted to see the house with toys again, the garish Technicolor plastic scattered around until Chris couldn't stand it anymore and squirreled them away back where they belonged.

"Do you want me to ask Sebastian to pick up Euan?" Chris asked, his thumbs brushing under Armie's eyes, doing his best to wipe away the tears. Armie wanted them to stop, but they kept coming.

"No," Armie said. "We'll get him. We have to tell him."

"Yeah," Chris said. "We have to tell him." He knew the baby had been on its way, too. They still hadn't told him that his biological mother had passed. Neither of them could even remember the last time they thought about his biological father. They weren't going to keep this news from him.

"I'm here for you," Chris said again. He needed Armie to know. "Stay here."

Armie watched as Chris shuffled off of him before heading into the kitchen. He ran his hands over his face one more time before Chris came in with a glass of water. Armie drank it down and held back a new barrage of tears. He could keep it together. He had to, for Chris and Euan. They depended on him. He depended on them.

"Did you tell anyone?" Armie asked.

Chris shook his head. He hadn't talked to anyone about it. He couldn't remember who he'd told. Sebastian knew. Who else? Did anyone from the team or school know?

"We'll figure it out," Chris said. "It's nobody's business but ours."

Armie gave him a hopeful look. "I have to tell my mom."

"I'll tell your mom," Chris said, holding Armie's face in his hands. "I'll tell your dad. I'll take care of it. You do everything you need to do for yourself first."

"I don't know what I need to do," Armie said.

Chris kissed his forehead. "Cry. Don't cry. Take some time to think. We lost a baby. That's the truth."

***

"You should eat something," Armie said, looking across the table at Chris. "You have to eat something."

"I'm not really hungry," Chris said, setting his fork down. The food smelled great, but he couldn't muster up any appetite.

The emotions had settled down for the both of them. Chris wondered which stage of grief he'd reached. Depression? No, he knew what that felt like. He knew all too well. He wasn't in denial and he wasn't angry. Maybe he'd reached acceptance. A glance at Armie let Chris know that his husband wasn't quite at acceptance yet. He was either bargaining for depressed. They'd talked most of the afternoon and let Euan know what was happening. His reaction was exactly what they'd expected. He said he could feel that his dads were sad but there wasn't much beyond that. It was too much to as from an 8-year-old, Chris realized, especially since he never got a chance to even meet the surrogate. For what it was worth, he gave his dads a hug before dinner.

"Thanks for talking to my mom," Armie said. "I know that's not your favorite thing. And my dad. And Sebastian. Everyone."

"I probably forgot a few people."

Armie finally asked the question he was avoiding all day: "What next?"

Chris sighed, finally taking a bite of his chicken. What was the spice that Armie used? Zaatar? Harissa? The silence was awkward, but Chris' chewing seemed to be enough for Armie not to push it. Chris hadn't touched any of his asparagus.

"I don't know," Chris said. "You tell me."

This was the hard part. Armie pushed hard when they adopted Euan. Chris had said he never saw himself as a dad. Armie convinced him that nobody was ever really ready for it. Now, neither of them could imagine not having Euan in their lives. When Armie suggested that they actually go for a surrogate, Chris was hesitant again. Armie convinced him. Again.

"We've got time," Armie said. "I don't want to rush into anything either way."

Everything seemed automatic. Chris went upstairs to make sure Euan was finished with his homework and to read a chapter or two of whatever book he'd picked out. Armie straightened up the kitchen and did his best to keep his mind off what had transpired. He went out to the patio, sitting down in Chris' usual spot and rubbing his face. With Chris and Euan to distract him, his mind couldn't go back to it. The email, the subsequent phone call. It was tough to think of an easy way to tell a couple that their surrogate had miscarried, but Armie kept thinking that maybe a frantic message and abrupt call were cold. A recommendation for a grief counselor felt like an afterthought. It must be hard for the agency, too, Armie reminded himself. Nobody ever wanted to talk about something like this.

"We chose names. There was so much we were thinking about but didn't really talk about," Armie said. He didn't even look back at the sliding glass door to know that it was Sebastian. Nobody else just walked into the house.

"Want a drink?"

"Can't numb feeling numb," Armie said. "We were going to name her Ava or Alice. You know how Chris loves 'Alice in Wonderland.'" There was so much that Armie was thinking about but didn't really talk about. Alice Lewis Hammer. Lewis, like Lewis Carroll. Armie had thought it was so clever, but he'd never said it out loud. Maybe it was stupid. He'd never know. He'd only mentioned the name in passing and he couldn't remember if Chris thought it was sincere or just a joke.

"Yeah," Sebastian said, settling into his chair across from Armie. "I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"I don't know what I'm going through," Armie said, looking out over the canal.

"Can I do anything?"

Armie shook his head. "It takes time. It's what everyone told Chris. You're the first person I've even talked to about it other than him and Euan." Sebastian closed the space between them, pulling Armie into a hug.

Upstairs, Chris left Euan's door open a crack and took a few steps away before sinking down against the wall, his body finally letting the emotions wash over him. He didn't want to break down in front of Euan or Armie, but holding back all the feelings and trying to be strong and reassuring finally got to be too much. He felt his body shake as he sobbed quietly, his face buried in his hands.

Guilt wasn't one of the stages he was supposed to be going through. Guilt was flowing through him like he'd never felt before, because while he could tell that Armie was heartbroken and devastated, he didn't feel the same way. Chris couldn't tell if he was sad for the right reasons. He didn't know why he felt relief along with the grief, because he wasn't sure he would be able to love anyone the way he loved Euan. He hated that he felt that way. He couldn't tell anyone, because he didn't want to look like a selfish, heartless person who would keep his husband from having a daughter. Chris figured that he'd see the new baby and instantly fall in love, just like it'd been with Euan. Now, he wouldn't get the chance.

Chris wiped his face when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, but he didn't manage to stand up before he saw Armie and Sebastian. They rushed over, scooping him into their arms and holding him as he cried.

"I'm OK," Chris said. "It just got to me all at once."

"It's a lot," Sebastian said. "If you need me to take the kid to school or anything like that, I'm here. Let me know."

"One thing at a time," Chris said. "Honestly, I just want to go to bed."

"We can talk about it. About anything," Armie insisted.

"I can talk if you want to," Chris said, pushing his hair back off his forehead. "If you need me, I'm here. I just don't really know what to think or say about what's going on in my head."

Armie kissed his temple, "I love you. More than anything."

"It'll be better tomorrow morning," Chris said. "And the morning after that and the one after that."

"Promise?"

"I'm going to do my best to make sure," Chris said. He leaned over and pressed his forehead against Sebastian's. "Thanks for coming over. I'm sorry I'm such a wreck."

"I'll be around," Sebastian said.

"You don't have to go," Chris said. "I can pull out the sofa bed."

"I'm alright," Sebastian said, running a soothing hand down Chris' back.

"I love you guys," Chris said. "I'll see you in the morning."

***

Euan woke up early. He always did, before the alarm clock in his room buzzed, so that he felt like he was getting a head start. But today, he looked down from his bed to find his dads on the trundle, his daddy's feet hanging off the end and their bodies tangled together. They didn't look comfortable, but he watched for a minute, just to see if he could figure out which arm belonged to who and why they ended up down there in the first place.

"Dad," Euan said quietly. On a normal day, his dad would be getting ready to go running with Sebastian. But on a normal day, his dad wouldn't be in his room. Something was not right. "Daddy."

Chris groaned and blinked a few times, the morning haze mixing with the fleeting confusion of waking up in a bed that wasn't his.

"Euan," Chris said. "Good morning."

"Why are you in my room?"

"I just wanted to be close to you," Chris said. He didn't know when it happened. He woke up, finding himself on the complete opposite side of the bed from Armie for the first time he could remember. He looked across the bed, shocked at how far away he seemed. He reached over and ran a hand over Armie's shoulder, but he didn't move. Then, before he knew it, he pulled back. He slid out of bed and looked at Armie, who looked tense and stiff, even though he was asleep. It wasn't normal. Nothing about the situation was. Chris walked out quietly, silently shutting the door behind him and found himself pulling out Euan's trundle bed, grateful that the wheels were smooth and he didn't wake his son. Before he knew what was going on, he fell asleep under the spray of stars on Euan's ceiling.

"Are you feeling OK?"

"I'll get there," Chris said. He gave Armie a soft nudge and was met with a soft smile. It was spectacular to see. After all the crying, seeing something as simple as Armie smiling made Chris' heart swell.

"Good morning," Armie said.

"Good?" Chris asked, running his hand over Armie's forearm.

"I have to use the bathroom," Euan said, hopping over his dads.

"What happened last night?" Armie asked, kissing Chris' forehead.

"I wish I knew."

Chris stretched and stumbled onto his feet, chuckling at the image of his 6-foot-5 husband on a full-size mattress. How he managed to fit in there with him boggled his mind.

"Day one," Chris said.

"Try not to think about it too much," Armie said. Even though he'd been up for just a few minutes, he was already pushing the thoughts out of his head. "But if you do think about it, talk to me. Please."

"I'll see you downstairs," Chris said, nodding. "You want me to start anything for you?"

"Anything is fine," Armie said. He glanced around, looking for a clock. "If you're running late, don't worry about it."

"It's just Sebastian," Chris said. "I can be late."

They survived day one. They survived day two, too. Chris noticed that Euan was mostly unaffected, which was a relief for everyone. Armie noticed Chris spending more time writing in his notebook, not on his computer. Armie knew better than to ask about it. If Chris wanted to share, he would.

By the time summer came and went and the family was deep into the fall, everything seemed almost normal. Armie's movie wrapped and released. Chris didn't have a book come out. His work in "The New Yorker" was still coming out and as Armie read the stories, he found an inherent sadness in it all. Anyone who read Chris' material with any sort of regularity would have picked up on it, but Armie searched long and hard for any clue as to what Chris was working through. Every word could mean that Chris was hurting inside or empty, but at the same time, it could be exactly what was printed on the page. It was hard to tell. If anything, Armie was just glad Chris was even writing. In the past, he'd hit bumps when things happened, his creativity and expression challenged by swirling emotions and uncertainty. Armie knew Chris' best work always came when he could channel that into his work, but more often than not, all of it could get overwhelming and Chris retreated into himself to try and figure it all out.

"How was the meeting earlier?" Armie asked when Chris settled in at the kitchen island, his laptop forgotten out on the patio. "I wish you'd let me go."

"You're not anonymous," Chris said.

"Neither are you."

"I'm a lot more anonymous than you," Chris said, smiling. "It was fine. Talking. Always a lot of talking. The people who know who I am probably think I'm digging for material."

"People that know who you are probably know you're there for the right reasons."

"It's been a long, long time. It's different. Life must be really, really hard out there if people are turning to pills ... and worse. It makes my situation look like nothing. Everyone made it out to be a huge deal. 'Christopher Gyllenhaal in rehab.' 'The Opioid Epidemic Claims America's Most Promising Voice.'"

"You're the exception," Armie said. "And I'm proud of you for that. Not everyone is as strong as you are. They need Narcotics Anonymous. They need the support. Some people just can't break out of addiction."

"I had reasons to recover," Chris said. "I have more reasons to stay clean. You and Euan deserve that."

"You deserve it," Armie interrupted. "You do it for yourself first."

"You shouldn't have had to ... I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Hey. We're past that. You didn't take anything. You went to the meetings after. You know what you need to do."

***

Chris was at James's house, picking up or dropping off the kids, he couldn't even remember now. Duke and Euan were talking about a game they'd watched together and James's work bag was tossed haphazardly on the counter. That's when Chris saw the bottle. Oxycodone. 'Did people actually still take that,' he'd thought. And what would James need it for? As far as Chris knew, he wasn't dealing with anything other than 60-hour work weeks and carpal tunnel. Suddenly, Chris remembered the feeling the pills had given him. That numbness. It would be so easy to just fall back into that, to forget about the feelings inside him, swirling around like a maelstrom that he couldn't control. He grabbed the bottle and looked at it closer. There were plenty of pills. James had no refills left.

"Dad," Euan said from the other room, "Can we stay a little bit longer?" Chris shook his head and tossed the bottle back, like he'd touched an open flame. The kids came in and Chris felt like he was going to throw up.

"Yeah," he said before rushing into the bathroom. He splashed his face and held the counter steady, refusing to look at his reflection in the mirror. He heard a knock on the door and almost jumped out of his skin. "I'll be right out," he said.

"The kids are kicking the ball out back," James said through the door. "You're going to have to convince them to stop if you want to get out of here anytime soon."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight, willing his heart to slow down and his stomach to settle. He was shaking all over, his brain even more scrambled than before. He managed to slip out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, away from the boys in the back yard. "Armie," he said as soon as his husband picked up. "I need help. I'm falling apart."

Chris started going to meetings right away. He and Armie saw a grief counselor. There was no reason either one of them had to be strong for the other. Together, they could face moments of weakness. They could get through it. The thought of relapsing scared Chris more than anything. He wasn't ashamed, he'd told Armie. This was a part of him; it was just coming back. He controlled it for this long, he could do it again. It was different than the first time, when he'd gone to a recovery center. Here, he was home. He had Euan and Armie. He also knew what to expect. He saw the warning signs. He wouldn't fall down the hole again. Again. The idea of that he'd regressed killed him. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had to be the best version of himself.

***

"You know, when I was in recovery and Jake and I would go out to events and stuff, I'd have to ask to get soda in the can," Chris said. "Otherwise, the gossip magazines would print that I was relapsing. It was crazy."

Armie gripped Chris' hand tighter. He remembered those stories. He remembered the way magazines treated the whole thing. It was a different time, even though it was just a few year ago. Chris hadn't ever officially talked about what he'd gone through, but public opinion had made up its mind. Thankfully, things like divorces and rebounding relationships overshadowed things like rehab. The same news cycle that had torn him down was quick to build him back up. It was enough to give anyone whiplash.

"I followed it," Armie said. "Because everyone followed it. I thought I knew everything ... I didn't."

Chris took a long, slow sip of coffee. It was hot, the morning sun breaking through the cloud cover earlier than they'd expected. Armie watched Chris' muscles move, his tank top showing off the slightest tan line and the full breadth of his biceps and shoulders. Armie took in the sprinkling of freckles across smooth skin. Chris' hair was messy and he kept pushing it back off his forehead even though it'd fall forward every time he leaned in closer to Armie.

"Here's yours," Sebastian said as he took his seat, handing Armie a mug. "And they're out of croissants, so I got you a bran muffin."

"Bran?" Chris said, wrinkling his nose. "Gross."

"You'll eat it and you'll like it," Sebastian said, settling in. Armie let out a soft laugh. Meeting up with the two of them was always a gamble. They could be completely drained or coursing with energy.

"It's actually not that bad," Chris said after he took a bite.

"Feeling good today?" Sebastian asked.

"Good," Chris said. "Getting things from paper to the computer is really good. It lets me polish things and rework things. Lets me practice my handwriting."

"Your handwriting is unreal," Armie said. "It can't get any better." He was surprised to hear that Chris was actually working on something again. They'd talked about how scrambled his ideas were and how he was dealing with bouts of writer's block. If he could string together a plot, he explained, it would be a miracle. Now, It seemed like things were starting to go back to normal.

"I threw away an entire story," Chris said. "It was like a fever dream I don't even know what came out of me."

"You do that," Sebastian said. "You start more stories than you finish."

Chris shrugged. "I called it 'Letters to my Dead Parents.' It was ... not great."

"No need to get that dramatic," Armie said, his eyes widening.

"I tossed it," Chris said. "Enough about me. It's boring. Recovery, whatever. I'm clean and everything is fine."

"What's 'New Beginnings Part 2'?" Armie asked. He'd seen it once in passing, when Chris left his laptop open in the kitchen.

"We're done talking about this," Chris said. "It's the one I didn't delete."

"That's what you're going to call it?" Sebastian asked.

"It's a working title," Chris said. "I'm not happy with the whole thing yet. I'm workshopping with David. Why do we always talk about me?"

"Because making movies is the same thing every single time," Sebastian said.

Chris almost chugged the rest of his coffee just to get it over with and nearly burned his mouth in the process. "It's not that exciting."

"It is," Armie said. "It's you from the beginning to the end. It takes whole crews to make me and Sebs look good."

"I have a call in half an hour," Chris said, brushing Armie's hand off of his leg. "Can we head back?"

"Can I read it?" Armie asked.

Chris froze and Armie could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he thought about the question. "After one more round with David," he said. "I promise."

***

"Good job," Armie said, smiling. He gave Euan a high five and offered his hand to the rest of the team, the air buzzing with excitement and relief. The Sharks were undefeated so far and the pressure to keep that record in tact went all the way from the players up to the coaching staff. Sure, it was just club soccer, but for the boys that laced up every Saturday, it felt like the World Cup every weekend. "Good game, boys. Good work out there."

"How's your head?" Chris asked Euan as he handed him a bottle of water. "I'm trusting you out there. If anything feels off you need to tell me."

"It feels OK," Euan said, his face flushed as he gave his dad a reassuring nod. "It wasn't so bad."

"What day is it?" Chris asked.

"Saturday," Euan said, rolling his eyes. "We already did this on the field. I'm fine." He trotted over to the other team to offer congratulations and swap his jersey with the captain. Chris watched through concerned eyes and hoped things really were fine.

"Another win," Armie said over Chris' shoulder, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the temple. "He's fine. They went through concussion protocol."

Chris let out a long breath. It felt like he'd been holding it since Euan took the hit. Everything was fine. "Hold on, I'll be right back," he said, eyeing someone on the other side of the field. Nobody but players and referees were allowed between the painted white lines, so Chris walked all the way around.

"Who's that?" Sebastian asked, finally making his way to Armie. Euan usually ran to him after his dads, looking for high fives from his godfather and asking if he saw the shots on goal, recounting as much of the detail that he could remember: who assisted, what part of his foot he used, where in the goal he was aiming and where it actually landed, everything. When the team lost or tied, it was Sebastian who heard the first words of disappointment or self-criticism. He had to be upbeat for the team and keep his emotions in check for his dads, but there were fewer rules with Sebastian. He could gripe about anything and never hear a word about being a good sport. After that, Euan would join the rest of the team with their head coach while Sebastian wove his way through the other parents and spectators to find Chris, Armie, or both of them.

"His sponsor," Armie said, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit as he looked across the pitch.

"He looks like a model."

"He was a model," Armie added. "What do you expect? This is L.A. Everyone looks like a model." He paused and looked over at Sebastian. "His name is Remy. He's been sober for six years. Chris has been sober for longer. It should be the other way around."

"This isn't a high-stress situation," Chris said.

"I was just making sure you were being honest about your weekend," Remy said. "I didn't think you were a soccer dad. I thought it was code for something."

"I'm an actual dad," Chris said. "And my son plays soccer. I don't know if I want to introduce my kid to my sponsor. Sorry."

"No, I get it," Remy said. "But keeping you accountable is part of what I do. If you came to check up on me, it would be the same thing."

"This is recovery," Chris said. "Not parole."

"Don't take it that way," Remy said. "We're here to help each other. Do you always come to these dressed like Johnny Cash?"

"I like having a uniform," Chris said, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you on Tuesday, like always. Rest easy. I'm not popping pills."

"Do I get a hug or anything?"

"You're too young for me, Remy," Chris said before trotting back over to Armie. He threw an arm around Sebastian's shoulders and glanced back over his shoulder. Remy was still standing in the same spot and gave a quick wave and smile.

"Where are we celebrating?" Sebastian asked.

"We're treating the other team to pizza, too," Armie said. "They didn't lose a game all season until today. We already called ahead."

"You're ruthless," Sebastian said, winking at Euan. "And amazing. You're phenomenal out there."

"Everything good?" Armie asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Chris' ear.

"You have to stop asking me that," Chris said, his hand running up under Armie's club-issued assistant coach's polo shirt to feel the warm skin above his waistband. "I'll let you know if anything's not fine."

"Come in for a picture," Sebastian insisted, pulling everyone in when Euan came back over. He held out his arm and snapped a few shots. Chris smiled and leaned his head on Armie's shoulder. Everything was fine. Everything felt right, just like this.

\---

feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn't like he'd imagined. Armie held the statue in his hand and everything about it was familiar. He saw one exactly like it almost every day, only this one didn't have Chris' name on it. This one didn't say anything at all. It was a prop. In his dreams, it was brighter and glitzier, but he'd gone through the whole routine to many times to come up empty-handed that he never actually thought he'd get here. The other awards leading up to this one should have been an indication, but everything was such a blur that he wasn't quite sure this was real.

"Congratulations," Chris said, throwing his arms around Armie, kissing him and pressing their bodies together as much as he could. "I'm so proud of you."

"I won," Armie said, his voice cracking.

"You won," Chris said, his forehead pressing to Armie's. Tears were coming out of his eyes and Armie wiped them away, his hands trembling.

"I won because of you," Armie said, his eyes peering into Chris'.

"It was you!" Chris said, his eyes getting bigger. "It's you. Armie Hammer. Academy Award-winner Armie Hammer."

"I have to go to the press room," Armie said, kissing Chris again. "I ... I don't know what to say. Come with me."

"No," Chris said. "This is your time."

"You wrote it," Armie said, pulling Chris toward the scrum of reporters and photographers. "You and me, we're a package deal."

Before Chris could object again, he was out in front of everyone with his husband, who held his Oscar triumphantly in one hand and clutched Chris' hand tight with the other. It was true. Chris wrote the book, wrote the movie, and handed it off to David. Armie didn't even get a heads-up when he went in for the audition. Suddenly, he was in one of Chris' movies, making something that he knew meant the world to his husband. It was surreal. It was a dream come true and Armie did everything he could to do it right. One of Chris' most popular books mashed up with a follow-up that was and wasn't a sequel, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Somehow, someway, the chaos gave way to what everyone was calling a modern masterpiece of storytelling. The books topped the best-seller list. Armie was getting lauded by every critic that had brushed him off as an actor that depended too much on his good looks.

Armie had always thought that this would be the last piece, but as he answered the same questions and Chris was practically beaming at him, their hands still holding on tight, he knew this wasn't the end at all. He'd felt more pride when they'd managed to adopt Euan. He was happier when he and Chris got their marriage license signed at Beverly Hills City Hall all those years ago. He felt even more content knowing that this trophy and all the others he'd managed to win these last few months were nothing compared to what he'd managed to have with Chris.

"I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into when we met," Armie said. "And by now, everyone knows the story about how this movie got made the way it did, with the amazing creativity that comes from Chris and so many happy accidents that gave me the role of a lifetime." He pulled Chris closer and finally let go of his hand to wrap his arm around Chris' waist. "This movie means everything to me ... to us and having the opportunity to tell that story is something I'll never forget. Thank you to everyone."

He leaned over and kissed Chris, the Oscar held high over their heads. Chris flushed a deep crimson as they started to make their way off, but a reporter stopped him before they could make their escape, posing one last question about what he hoped his legacy would be. "You've got a son," she said. "What do you want him to remember about big moments like this?"

"We do what we do so that the next generation of writers, actors, filmmakers, costume designers, everyone involved, really, can stand on our shoulders," Chris said. "I got my chance because someone took a risk with me and I'll always take a second look at that unconventional voice or story. I tell my son that he can be anything and do anything, so I've got to prove it to him. We, Armie and I, have to live it every single day for him, for anyone who has a crazy dream or idea."

Armie pulled him away, smiling as their hearts raced. He still wasn't registering what had happened. 

"Hold on," Chris said, pulling Armie aside, ignoring everyone and everything that was happening around them. Backstage, it was chaos, with handlers scrambling to get everyone where they needed to go, camera operators rushing around, and the occasional actor going back to their seats. "Slow down. Enjoy this."

"Do you remember what this feels like?"

"No," Chris said. "Because I rushed through it all. It's all a blur."

Armie smiled, his expression softening and his hands coming to rest on Chris' waist, the trophy resting on the floor. "This is real, right? I'm not imagining it?"

"It's real."

"Are you sad you didn't get one?"

"I'm cool," Chris said, his fingers grazing across Armie's cheek. He let out a soft laugh. Of course, Armie was thinking about him. Chris had been nominated, too, but he came up short tonight. "I am so happy for you. Happy and proud." He leaned up and kissed Armie again.

"Let's get out of here," Armie said. "Show's over."

"You have to take pictures," Chris said. "You have to go to the after-parties. You won."

"I don't have to do anything," Armie said. "I want to take you home and I want to get you out of that tux."

"We have a hotel room," Chris reminded him.

"I want to go home," Armie said again. "Let's get out of here." He left the Oscar on the floor and the two of them escaped, leaving everyone from the show's producers to the gossip columnists to wonder where they'd gone.

***

"It gets pretty easy," Chris said. "I don't think about it at all."

"Even when there's stuff at your house?" Remy asked.

"I have a lot of self-control," Chris assured him. "I have to. I was around drinking and ... worse for a lot of my recovery. I have a lot to lose now. I'm not going to let myself slide."

"I admire that," Remy said. "It's a testament to how strong you are."

"We all have moments when we don't feel strong," Chris said before taking his last sip of coffee. "We good?"

It'd been two years since Chris met Remy. While Chris kept him at arm's length, Remy managed to convince him to let him meet Armie, Euan, and Sebastian. It took a certain level of trust, but after a few months, Remy introduced himself to the men in Chris' life. Armie was wary. Euan was warm and Sebastian seemed on guard for the entirety of their first meeting. Eventually, everyone softened and as Chris worked his way down to one meeting a month, even skipping one here and there and not feeling awful about it, things got more and more relaxed.

"I'm good," Remy said, grinning. "We've got a good thing, don't we?"

"It could be worse," Chris said, shaking his head. "But this is better than the first time around for sure."

"Way to make a guy feel special. I hope Armie gets treated better than this."

Chris rolled his eyes and Remy let out a soft laugh at the reaction even though it was covered up by Chris' sunglasses.

"Tell him congratulations from me," Remy said. "Those pictures of you guys kissing were everywhere."

The entire awards season, Chris and Armie had been nominated for "The End / New Beginnings" and both of them were unprepared for the amount of time they'd have to commit to luncheons, cocktail parties, and the actual shows. They did their best to keep things as normal as possible for Euan, who'd never had to deal with his dads having to be places. Chris forgot what it felt like to be the center of attention for his work and having Armie along for the ride -- and having him take home a few awards himself -- made everything that much more special. Euan reveled in hearing his name during his dads' acceptance speeches and sat wide-eyed as they bolted downstairs in their tailored tuxedos and their hair combed just right. After so long seeing them on the sidelines of his games, he finally saw what everyone else did. His dads were a big deal.

"I'll text you for next time," Chris said. "I'm around if you need me. Be good. Make good choices."

Chris hugged Remy and started the quick walk back to the house. He didn't feel any different, but he could tell from the way Armie carried himself and the way that he looked a tiny bit dreamy that he was basking in the afterglow of everything. He deserved it, Chris thought, after working so hard and falling short of the critics every year. Nominations were fine. Winning was better. The fact that it was Chris' movie made it mean even more, Armie had said over and over again. In almost every single interview, Armie had mentioned that bringing Chris' story to life was a privilege he took very seriously. The fact that the movie was something so new and different from anything he'd done didn't just challenge him, it inspired him. There was a new energy around it all and Armie was soaking up as much as he could.

Having things settle back down let Chris take a breath. No more fittings with Armie and his stylist, no more glancing at his watch to make sure that they got home to say goodnight to Euan, no more late-night shows and posing for the cameras. It felt like everything was running at double speed and now that it was all behind him, Chris could slow down. When things were good, they were great. All the positivity around the movie made Chris' book sales spike. Armie was getting so much attention that he had to turn off his phone.

"Do you want me to make you a sandwich?" Chris heard as soon as he stepped through the front door. When he got to the kitchen, Euan had every kind of meat and cheese from the fridge spread out on the counter.

"Are you packed yet?" Chris asked. He reached around his son to grab a piece of Monterey Jack. Every day, Chris felt like he was getting taller, bigger. At 10, he was already the tallest kid in his class, but on the field, he was still the youngest, so the other boys seemed to tower over him. But his size meant he was sprinting faster, weaving through tough spots, and, as always, finding the goal. Whenever anyone mentioned how big Euan was getting, Chris had to bite his lip. He could remember the little 2-year-old tottering around the house. Now, that kid was filling out and making his sandwiches.

"I'm ready," Euan said. "I'm nervous."

"What's making you nervous?"

"I don't want to lose."

"Nobody does," Chris said. "Add something green to your sandwich, please." He picked up an avocado and made short work of halving it and handing it over with a spoon. "Is it different from any other game?"

"Not really," Euan said, smashing the green flesh of half an avocado onto his sourdough. "When it's a tournament, it just feels like more."

"You'll be great," Chris said as he assembled his sandwich. "Are you eating out back?"

"I'm going to watch game tape," Euan said, motioning towards the Armie's iPad, which was propped up on the end of the kitchen island.

"I'll be out there," Chris said. "Me and your daddy are all ready to go."

"Is Seba coming?"

"Not this time," Chris said. "He's working all weekend."

"Is Remy?"

Chris stopped mid-stride. "No. He's not coming to Santa Barbara." He took a bite, carefully gripping the end so that the mashed avocado wouldn't spill out. "Do you want him to?"

"I just thought he would. He watches."

"He does," Chris said slowly. "But no, he's sitting this one out."

Euan shrugged and went back to his video while Chris settled down in his spot on the patio. "Forgot this," Chris heard from the back door. Armie's smooth, velvety baritone unmistakable. Armie kissed him before he took his spot across from Chris and handed him a can of seltzer.

"You didn't even get a plate?"

"Got distracted," Chris said. "Remy says congrats. Carly from the coffeeshop says congratulations. Everyone we know says congratulations."

Armie blushed, rubbing his face and stretching his arms up over his head, a satisfying crack coming from his spine. He studied Chris' expression, how thoughtful he looked as he ate and peered out over the canal, wondering what was going on between his ears. Things hadn't changed, Armie thought. He had worked hard to be someone Chris would be proud of, but after that unforgettable night, he'd finally realized that Chris had always been proud of him. The statue was an afterthought. The honor that came with it was something Chris never even considered. What he wanted, Armie was sure now, had been there all along. All Chris had ever wanted was a good heart. Armie had misdirected his ambitions all along. Chris never needed him to win anything.

"Did you eat?"

"Yeah," Armie said.

"You okay?" Chris asked, dusting the crumbs off his T-shirt and straightening up. "You seem tense."

"I'm good. I'm really good," Armie said.

"Are you nervous about the game, too, coach?"

Armie chuckled. "Not with that kid in there. He's got a cannon for a leg and no fear. It's a scary combination."

"I wonder where he gets that," Chris said, smiling. He came over and straddled Armie's lap, kissing him softly. "I can't believe he's survived this long. I can't believe neither one of us has gone insane. And most of all, I can't believe how much I love you."

Armie's hands settled on the small of Chris' back. "We need to get going, don't we?"

"Yeah," Chris said, pressing his forehead to Armie's. "But I like what's going on right here."

***

There was no way that the Santa Barbara house had ever had 23 kids in it. There was no way it had 23 kids and their parents, either, but it was happening. Chris was at the dining room table, mostly so that he couldn't get cornered, while Armie was milling around the back yard, where kids were kicking a ball around. 

"This is a great place," James said. "All this stuff is so cool."

"Thanks," Chris said. "Most of the house stuff is original. The furniture isn't, but all the trim and the carved wood is from the '20s. And I had the fireplace restored a while ago. My grandparents bought it and kept it up."

"But you didn't grow up here?"

"This is West Beach," Chris explained. "My parents had a house by the mission, but after the accident, I moved here."

"It's different from L.A."

"Really different," Chris said, smiling. "Honestly, I'd have loved to come back, but L.A. kept me busy." He looked out at the back door at Armie, who was never a hard guy to spot in a crowd. Armie needed to be in Los Angeles. Now, Euan needed to be there, too.

"Thanks for having us all here," James said. It wasn't hard to sense that Chris was a little tense.

"It's good to get everyone together outside of a restaurant," Chris said. "And not at the field. I just think we're all crowded in here."

"It's fine," James said. "Nobody is thinking about that. Having a yard though ... it's not something most of these kids have back at home."

Armie took a long sip of his beer. "You just won an Oscar, but everyone here is talking about your kid." It was one of the other dads.

"That's fine with me," Armie said. He could see Euan and Duke juggling the ball just a few yards away. They loved showing off. Euan could go 100, 150 bounces without even trying. Armie recalled Euan mentioning that David Beckham could go 500 without dropping it. Chris didn't know it, but Armie knew he had a few tricks, too. If Euan left a ball out on the patio, Chris would juggle it before stashing it back in the hall closet where it belonged. He was good at it. "It's not really about me. Ever. Not since he entered the picture."

"We all saw the scouts last week. Did you hear anything?"

"Yeah," Armie said, turning his attention to the barbecue. There were more hot dogs and hamburgers than he'd ever seen at once. "He's getting attention from some academy and team scouts. It's exciting. But he's young. It's all very early."

"How's he taking Chris' rehab thing?"

"It's not a 'thing' and it's not 'rehab,'" Armie said. "All that stuff they write online isn't what's happening at all. He just needed some support because of something we were going through as a family." They hadn't gone public with the news. Nobody, apart from their family and friends, knew that they were expecting. Nobody had to know that they weren't.

"I loved the movie, by the way. Loved the books, too, but the movie was just so cool."

"Thanks," Armie said. "It's something we're both really proud of. It was exhausting to make. Chris was having a lot of trouble with writing it and adapting it ... I didn't even know what he was trying to do."

"It was incredible. When people said that they were making it, I couldn't believe it."

"He's amazing," Armie said. "I can't believe he does what he does."

"Are those new cleats?" Duke asked Euan.

Euan looked down at his feet and shrugged. "I don't think so? I got the purple ones and these."

"Your dad gets you new shoes every time you ask?"

"My feet keep growing," Euan said, still juggling the ball, trying harder to get it to go higher with every bounce. It fell to the ground with a thud and Duke caught it on the next bounce. "I always need new cleats."

"Your dads never say no to you," Duke said, focusing on keeping the ball up.

"They said no when I wanted a dog," Euan reminded him.

"Is that all? You got a turtle. That's cooler."

"There have been other things," Euan said, his eyes following the ball.

"I can't think of any," Duke continued.

"They're just shoes."

"They're the newest ones," Duke said. "I saw them on the Galaxy players when we went to the game."

Euan grunted as he lost his concentration and the ball fell to the grass. He huffed and watched as Duke took his turn. "When we're both playing for the Galaxy, we'll have so many cleats. Robbie told me."

"We'll be roommates," Duke continued. "And when we win the cup, it'll be just like the pictures we saw."

"I'm going to be just like David Beckham," Euan said. He looked over to where his daddy was talking by the barbecue. "And Wayne Rooney. And Zlatan Ibrahimović. Landon Donovan." It was his personal Mount Rushmore. They were the guys Robbie talked about when Euan had just started playing. They were the men he wanted to be every time he stepped out on the grass.

"We'll play in the World Cup," Duke said, the ball falling again. "And we'll win." They smiled at each other and traded high-fives. Duke still thought Euan was a little bit spoiled, but he wasn't going to hold it against him. If that's what it took for him to play the way he did, it was fine.

"Tomorrow, after we win the tournament, I'm going to ask my dads if I can go to the academy," Euan said. 

"You say that all the time," Duke said. "Are you ever really going to ask?"

"I don't want them to say no," Euan said. "If I don't ask, it might happen."

Duke decided that Euan wasn't as spoiled as he thought.

"Hold on, let me turn down the music," Chris said, excusing himself from the kitchen. He scooted through the crowd, smiling and waving when he made eye contact. He got to the smart speaker and tapped it a few times, letting the conversations fill the room and not the music.

"Cool sweatshirt," he heard.

"Thanks," Chris said. It had a single lightning bold sewn on the chest. "it's from that store on Abbot Kinney."

"I know the one. You've got a beautiful home here."

"Thanks," Chris said.

"Who is the couple in the photo by the hallway?"

Chris paused. "My parents. That was the day they got married."

"You look like your dad."

Chris paused again. It'd been a long, long time since anyone had said that. Decades. It was something his grandparents always said. Hearing it while standing in their house took him back so far into his memories that he froze on the spot.

"The picture of Euan in Golden Gate Park is really cute, too. It's great that he's been so many places."

"He's a lucky kid," Chris said. "We're very lucky to have him. I think that every single day."

"Did you pick the photos on that wall?"

"Armie did," Chris explained. His mind drifted again. After all of this, he hoped his dad would have been proud of him. 

"What did your dad do? Was he a creative person, too?"

"All I remember is that he was an engineer," Chris said. "That's not really creative but I'm not sure. Maybe he was."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get nosy."

"No, it's not that," Chris said. "Sometimes I just forget that not everyone knew him like I did. Actually, nobody did."

"Isn't he in your books?"

"A little bit," Chris said. His thoughts wandered again to what Euan thought of him, what he'd remember, and everything he told people who asked about his dad. Probably that he was a little bit odd, which is what most people already thought. "I wish my dad could have met Euan. And for Euan to meet his grandpa. I never thought I'd have a kid, but I think my dad would have wanted it."

"It doesn't feel different," Armie said. "Chris and Euan don't treat me any differently. We'll see if I get different scripts tossed at me, but who knows? For now, it's just like nothing happened."

"Are you going to get Chris to keep writing movies?"

"I can't get him to do anything if he doesn't want to do it," Armie said. "He's his own person. He writes and writes, he doesn't stop. But it's never a plan for him to make a movie."

"All his movies are so good."

Armie chuckled. People only remembered the good ones. Chris would be the first to admit that not all of his movies did his original work justice, but that was part of the game. If he wasn't directly involved in everything, which wasn't often, the movies didn't always have the magic that his readers expected. Having final say on the script was one thing, he didn't have final say on anything else unless the director asked. That was exceedingly rare.

"Did you guys celebrate or anything?"

"We had to get up here," Armie said. "Dad duty comes first, always. The team, the kid. Everything sort of takes priority in the real world."

"Chris didn't do anything for you?"

Armie chuckled again. "Nothing big," he said. All Chris had done was playfully carve his and Armie's initials into the big live oak in the front yard earlier. AH + CH in crude letters, right by where Euan's old rope swing used to hang. There was the suggestion of a vintage car, which was almost too ridiculous to believe, or trip, but they both knew that Euan's schedule would mean it would have to wait. Armie didn't need anything. The tree was probably more than 100 years old and, God willing, it would be standing for another 100. Those initials were enough.

"Are the hot dogs ready?" Euan asked, Duke just a few steps behind him. "And are they like the ones they sell outside the stadium?"

"I did my best," Armie said, opening up the barbeque. There were peppers and onions alongside the bacon-wrapped dogs and plain buns. The mayonnaise was probably what made those hot dogs so good, but part of it also had to be the post-game atmosphere. 

"They look just like them," Duke said.

"Can I have a soda?" Euan asked.

"I think there's just juice," Armie said. "And your dad's fizzy water."

"Food looks great," Chris said, wrapping his arm around Armie's waist. "There's stuff inside, too, if anyone's already hungry."

"Did you eat all the cheese?"

"Not all of it," Chris said. "I'll let everyone know about the hot dogs."

"Is there enough beer and wine?" Armie asked. "And ice?"

"I'll check that," James said. "You guys are doing more than enough just hosting all of us."

"I think we're doing great," Chris said, smiling and giving Armie a quick kiss. "People aren't leaving early."

"Having low standards isn't so bad," Armie said, letting out a soft laugh.

"Euan, tell the team that the food's ready," Chris said. "And wash your hands, please."

***

Chris was on the brink of sleep when Armie crawled over him, lips latching onto his neck. The party had gone on without a hitch and like all the players, Euan would be staying in a hotel by the U.C. Santa Barbara where the tournament would start tomorrow. After they waved goodbye and cleaned the house up, Chris had basically collapsed into bed as Armie made sure everything was in order and nobody had left anything behind.

"When was the last time we had this house to ourselves?" Armie asked, his hands already running over the curves and contours of Chris' sides and arms. His voice was muffled by the skin of Chris' neck and the gentle groans coming from Chris' throat. Chris was warm and pliant under him, fresh from a warm rinse in the shower, his body responding to Armie's touch and the weight of him.

Chris' lips crashed into Armie's before he could answer with anything coherent, his hands gripping at Armie's shoulder and the back of his head, tongues licking against each other and exploring familiar territory.

Chris' leg wrapped around Armie's waist and pulled their bodies closer, the rough scratch of Armie's chest hair sending a tingle of heat through Chris' entire body. He groaned into Armie's mouth and rolled his hips up, hoping for even more contact. Armie's mouth was back on his neck in a flash, kissing instead of his usual biting and sucking, knowing that they had to look presentable the next day. Chris scrambled to push Armie's underwear off, his hand wrapping around Armie's dick, squeezing and stroking with practiced motions. He knew exactly where to swipe his thumb, where to twist his wrist, and how hard to squeeze to make Armie's breath catch.

"There should be lube in the second drawer," Chris said, his voice breathy.

"You're so impatient," Armie said. He kissed Chris hard, tongue sliding in deep. He rocked his hips against Chris'. They were barreling past foreplay, but Armie wanted to slow things down. There was no reason to rush past the things Armie liked the most. He pushed himself up onto his knees, surveying Chris' swollen lips and half-lidded eyes. "You're incredible," he said, his hands feeling Chris' tight chest and taut abs. Armie spread Chris' legs and left a trail of kisses between his pecs and down the length of his already-leaking dick. Chris leaked a lot, something Armie had noticed since the very first time they'd been together, and there were already slick smears across his stomach. Armie kissed at one, tasting the salty sweet of Chris' precum before he went lower, his tongue flat on Chris' hole before circling and dipping inside. Chris was gasping under him already, with just the slightest touch of Armie's tongue. Armie's eyes watched every reaction, every short breath and shudder, every time Chris bit his lip and the way his fists knotted up the sheets.

Armie gave a few more licks before flipping Chris over and shoving his tongue right back in. Chris shuddered underneath him, whimpering his name as he spread his knees, giving Armie all the room he needed. Grinning and stroking himself, Armie continued to alternate between jabbing his tongue through Chris' hole and licking around it. The entire time, Chris was doing his best to stay up on his hands and knees, even though he could feel heat rising through his body and a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on every inch of his skin. Armie knew what he was doing -- Chris could tell he was hitting every spot that sent electricity up his back, the subtle stretch and slow burn going all the way down to his toes and up to his ears.

Two fingers. Wet with Armie's saliva, they slid in without much resistance. After two, though, Armie knew it would hurt and while Chris had said that the pain was part of feeling good, he wasn't going to push it. Armie hooked his fingers down onto Chris' prostate and he swore Chris let out an actual shout. He steadied Chris with a hand on his low back, feeling him settle down and take long, slow breaths as Armie tapped and massaged his prostate, massaging it and pumping more and more pre-cum out of his dick.

A few more jabs of his fingers and tongue and Armie settled on his knees between Chris' legs. "I'll take that lube now," Armie said, his voice gruff.

Chris grunted, still working his ass around Armie's two fingers and pushing back a little, trying to get that much more sensation as he scrambled to open the night table. There was lube, just like he remembered, and he tossed it down by Armie before settling his head back down on his forearms, waiting for what he expected to be a rough entry. Armie leaned down and kissed at the small of Chris' back as he drizzled lube on his own cock, already throbbing and red.

Armie bit his lip and lined everything up before pushing through, the initial penetration sending a low growl out of his throat and a whimper out of Chris'. He slid deep in a smooth, steady motion, pushing through the resistance and settling his hips against Chris' ass, his own eyes rolling back at the familiar tightness and heat. He ground in as deep as he could, feeling Chris' ring flutter at the base of his dick, watching the muscles of Chris' back tense as he adjusted, trying to ride that fine line between pain and ecstasy.

"You're so sexy," Armie said, his voice still low. "You look incredible. Feel so good." He ran his thumb over the tissue-thin rim of Chris' ring and started with slow, long strokes. The rim job did exactly what it was supposed to. Chris was open and Armie moved with a smooth in and out motion that sent tingles through his whole body. He ran his hands over Chris' back and gripped his shoulders, pulling him back, feeling the cords of muscle tighten and relax. 

Chris bit down on his knuckles, groaning deep in his chest as he felt the girth of Armie's dick stretch him open. He worked his body back against Armie's motions, rocking into each thrust and pulling back. Armie leaned down, kissing Chris' neck and pumping in deeper, groaning against Chris' skin and using every inch of his cock. Chris was clamping down, working to stay tight around Armie's dick and pulling Armie closer and closer to his orgasm. Armie's hand gripped Chris', fingers tangling as their bodies moved together, both of them sweating and breathing hard.

Armie pulled out long enough to get Chris on his back, their eyes meeting through the darkness, Chris' neck already blooming with red from where Armie's stubble had scratched the soft skin. Armie leaned down for a soft kiss, a counter to the bruising fucking he'd just dished out, his lips barely touching Chris' as he slid back in, making Chris' back arch and his head fall backward. Armie rolled his hips, the fluid in-and-out motion making Chri's toes curl as he wrapped his legs around Armie's waist. This is what he couldn't get enough of. Their bodies touching as much as possible, the familiar scrape of Armie's teeth on his neck and his hot breath washing over Chris' skin. He couldn't tell where he ended and where Armie started, they were so connected. Armie moved at an easy pace, feeling Chris' tight ring slide on every inch of his dick, squeezing and pulsing around him.

"God, Armie," Chris groaned, his vision starting to blur as Armie's dick hit his prostate just right. He could feel his entire body shivering as he gripped Armie's broad shoulders, knuckles white and his neck tense as he did his best to hold back, clamping down with everything he had to stave off his orgasm.

"Don't," Armie said, voice gravelly and heavy. "Just cum." Chris kissed him and Armie felt the release, his entire body seizing as warm cum pooled between their chests and abs. Armie's tongue slid against Chris' as he pushed in as deep as he could, Chris' chute clenching and squeezing with every shot.

Armie rocked his hips, the motions slow and deliberate, raking across Chris' pulsing spot and riding his orgasm. As Chris came down, his body softened and Armie pumped in faster, grunting as he heard the sound of skin against skin echoing in his ears as he went deeper and faster. Chris was letting out soft whimpers underneath him, his legs tight around Armie's waist again. Armie groaned into Chris' neck, his arms wrapping underneath him to hold him as tight as possible, smashing their bodies together as his hips moved and he was shooting, too. His body rigid as he pumped his load deep, every inch of him smothering Chris as he took long, hard breaths. 

Chris kissed Armie's temple, soothing hands running up his back as they both floated back down to reality. Armie pushed Chris hair off his forehead and kissed him one more time before they settled in together, spooned up and not bothering to reach for the sheets.

***

"He's going to get a big head," Chris said, gripping Armie's hand. The mood was electric and everyone was cheering and clapping, but Chris couldn't help but think about the other side of things.

"If they never lose, he'll have no reason not to have an ego about it," Armie says. "Especially if he keeps playing the way he does."

"Daddy!" Euan shouted as he ran toward them, his arms outstretched like an eagle in flight, like he was still celebrating his game-winning goal. "You saw that, right?"

"I sent the video to Sebs," Armie said, offering both his hands up for a high-five. That statement made Euan's smile even bigger.

"Good game, kiddo," Chris said. "Really good."

Just a few moments later, all the kids were gathered around Euan, congratulating him and each other. They'd shaken hands with the other team, offered up words of support, and a few of them even swapped shirts, something Chris knew happened in real-life professional soccer when something big happened. It was a show of respect and Euan had traded his jersey with the other team's striker, a player that was a whole year older than him. Chris and Armie both knew there were scouts at the game. There'd been buzz about it for a few weeks now. But, Chris thought, there were scouts at their games all the time. This time shouldn't have been any different.

Armie leaned over and gave Chris a quick kiss on the temple. "You survived," Armie said softly. "All these kids in the house. All the parents. You're an amazing dad. You showed it."

"Being a good dad is more than just barbecues and ball," Chris said, wrapping and arm around Armie's waist. "But thank you. You make it all look really easy."

"You're not exactly struggling," Armie said. "He's proof of that."

"You've got a superstar out there," James said, patting Chris and Armie on their backs.

"Duke looked great, too," Chris said. "Clean sheet in a big tournament can't be a bad thing."

"We all know who gets the attention," James said. "And that's fine. Duke knew what he was in for when he went for 'keeper."

"Can you keep your hands off each other for a minute? You make the other parents look bad."

"Sorry," Chris said, taking a step away, only to have Armie pull him right back in, even closer.

"Let 'em look bad," Armie said, smiling.

"Game ball goes to Duke," Euan said as all of his teammates huddled around. "We got the trophy because he kept the ball out of our net. He is the guy we all depend on, no matter what and he never, ever gives anything but his all. All the boys want you to have it, Duke."

Duke held the ball up triumphantly and the entire team whooped cheered, their arms up in the air. The trophy ceremony was still being set up and they'd be getting their medals any minute.

"That's a surprise," James said as he watched Duke come away with the ball. "What do you guys do with them all?" he asked Chris and Armie.

"We have a rack," Armie said. "He labels every single one with the date."

"OK, are we all set?" Chris asked after Euan and his teammates finished posing for photos. Trophy in hand, Euan was satisfied at last and finally feeling the fatigue in his legs and the rest of his body. Chris could tell by his stride and the slight slump in his shoulders that he was ready for some rest. "You sure you want to go to the team dinner?" he asked. Euan looked completely gassed.

"Yeah, of course," Euan said, his brow furrowing. "We won."

"You just look really tired," Chris said. "That game took a lot out of you."

"He just needs some food," Armie insisted.

"I knew he was exhausted," Chris said when they were just a few minutes out of the parking lot. He glanced over his shoulder to see his son asleep, his head resting against the car window.

"He left it all out there," Armie said. "Just like we always tell the boys to."

Chris squeezed Armie's hand. "This is ... just wow. Is this what you thought way back when we met? That we'd be dads and drive a kid to soccer games and have no time to even, I don't know," his voice trailed off. "This is it. Forever."

"What we have right here? I never imagined it could be like this. It's beyond anything I could have dreamed about. It makes me so happy."

Chris looked over at him, the setting sun casting a warm, gold light on everything. "Just like this? Nothing more, nothing less."

"Just like this," Armie said. "Me, you, Euan. This. Soccer, PTA. All of this. It's everything to me. I don't want anything else."

"Nothing at all? Not a girl?"

"We're good just like this."

\---

Feedback: breakingthroughstory@gmail.com


	15. Chapter 15

"He'll look like he usually does in a few days," Chris said. He was amazed that Euan was still so affected by Armie's appearance. He always felt a little anxious when Armie cut his hair or shaved. Chris figured it was the familiarity and consistency that Euan had latched onto. He remembered when Armie had been clean-shaven once when Euan was still a toddler; he didn't recognize him. Another time, when Armie had buzzed his hair short, Euan had almost refused to get into the car with him after school. Chris' usual cycle of short-to-long didn't faze him at all. It was just his daddy.

"He looks like a different person," Euan said, sliding his iPad and notebook into his backpack. School was so different now. No textbooks. Tests on computers. Chris was just grateful they still handed out letter grades. "Is it for a movie or did he accidentally shave off part of his beard again?"

"Can you take a peach or a pear or something? I don't always trust your cafeteria."

Euan grabbed an apple from the bowl on the kitchen island and it joined the other supplies in his backpack. "Are we having dinner at grandma's house tonight?"

"Yes," Chris said, already on his second mug of coffee.

"You're back early," Armie said, zipping up his hoodie as he came into the kitchen. Chris could see that he wasn't wearing anything under.

"It's cold out there," Chris said, motioning over his shoulder to the overcast, grey skies out the back doors.

"I guess so," Armie said, smiling at the image of Chris in his running tights, short shorts, and tight long-sleeved shirt. Seeing all the lean, long lines under skin-tight black technical fabric was almost better than seeing his husband completely naked. Almost. He went in for a kiss before looking over to Euan, who had slipped on one of his soccer jackets. It was definitely not something his school uniform guidelines sanctioned. "Ready?"

"I'll take it off when I get inside," Euan said, already knowing what his dads would say.

"OK. Have a good day at school," he said before looking over at Armie. "I'll see you when you get back."

"I'm counting on it," Armie said.

The quiet solitude of the morning seemed even more still when it was cool and the marine layer didn't burn off first thing in the morning. The neighborhoods were quieter when summer was in the rearview and the frenetic energy that came with the heat was gone, giving way to a slower, more languid mood all around. Chris still went through the motions of opening all the back doors to let in the fresh morning air, but he'd decamped from his usual spot on the patio to the kitchen, hoping that the mix of PTA meetings, soccer practices, work calls, and deadlines would slow down like the rest of the world.

When Armie got home, he was normally greeted by the taps of Chris' keyboard. But today, there was commotion and a layer of tension in the air he hadn't felt before.

Chris was in the family room, his hands holding Remy's as they sat next to each other on the sofa. "It's not you," Armie heard. "I was feeling really stressed out and I wasn't getting anywhere, so I just took the pills."

"You should have called me or something," Chris said. Armie leaned against the wall in the entryway, still not sure whether or not he should be listening. "We're both dealing with recovery. It's not easy for anyone."

"You make it look very easy," Remy said. "And this is about me, not you. You're still sober. You have the chips and now I'm not ... I can't be your sponsor anymore."

"That doesn't mean we can't help each other," Chris said. "Because you're a part of my family now. I know I sort of kept you at from getting too close and that might have been the wrong thing to do, but I know you care about everyone and everyone cares about you."

"That's ... it means a lot."

"I know exactly what you're going through. It's what happened to me before I started going to meetings again. You can talk to me."

Armie knocked on the doorframe to announce his entrance. "Sorry to interrupt. You guys good?"

"Better," Remy said, standing up and smoothing his shirt over his chest. "I'm taking things as they come. Slow and steady."

"It's a process," Chris explained. "Some days, it was nothing. Other days, I was grabbing pills out of my friend's bag. There's just no way to tell."

"Hey, we've all got our own struggles," Armie said. "No judgement."

"Thank you," Remy said. "It's definitely not easy."

"Hey, I'm here for you," Chris said. "Don't ever hesitate to call me or come by or anything."

Armie nodded. This is what he thought all along; Chris had been sober for as long as he could remember. Chris just hadn't ever stepped into a mentorship role at the meetings. "Are you still working on that science fiction story you were talking to me about last time?"

"It got too weird," Chris said, happy for the pivot. "Androids. Love stories. Robots taking over. I was getting in over my head. I have to stick to what I know."

"Americana," Remy said. "It's amazing how you can see things in such a cool way. The details and the way you write people. You're the only one that does like that."

"It's been long enough, I hope I've managed to find my voice," Chris said, looking up at Armie. "And my voice is not people falling in love with robots."

"Robots don't have feelings," Remy offered.

"But what if they do?" Armie asked. "That's the story."

Chris shut the door behind Remy and made his way back into the kitchen, where he saw Armie cutting peaches in half. "Are you grilling those?"

"Yeah," Armie said, smiling when he felt Chris' arms wrap around his waist. Chris rested his cheek against Armie's back and took a deep breath. "Can you mix up that dressing with the balsamic?"

"Anything for you," Chris said. "Let me get out of these gross clothes first and I'll be right back."

"You don't need to do that," Armie said. 

"Yeah I do, I'm stinky."

"You're fine," Armie said, turning around. He licked the peach juice off his fingertips and kissed Chris, running his hands up under his shirt. "You look so sexy."

"You're so easy," Chris said, lips brushing Armie's. "And typical. And hot."

Armie pulled their bodies together. "I've got to get the grill going, but don't change. I want to watch you take this off."

***

Chris rolled his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. He'd seen it a million times, but even if it was his mother-in-law's house, he figured she'd put away any sort of medication when she knew she had guests coming over. Opening the medicine cabinet was obnoxious of him, sure, but it was like she was trying to prove something. It was pretty normal stuff. Tylenol. Band-Aids. Allergy stuff. There were a few amber pharmacy jars, too, but Chris didn't bother to look any closer. This is upstairs bathroom stuff, he thought. Nobody came all the way downstairs to take their hardcore painkillers or anti-anxiety meds. He didn't know what Dru had and he didn't care to find out. The day was already more than he'd planned for.

"Dessert already?" Chris asked as he took his seat. Armie instinctively scooted his chair over a little closer and threw and arm over his shoulders.

"Do you want ice cream on yours?"

"Well, yeah," Chris said. "Who wouldn't?"

Euan happily served up scoops of vanilla ice cream on the tiny pies that Dru had gotten them. "Is there rhubarb and strawberry?" Chris asked as he took his first bite. "Wow. These are good."

"I got them at Whole Foods," Dru explained. "I read that you broke a 'New York Times' record?"

"No, nothing like that," Chris said. "Just some people blowing my numbers up. The 'Times' just put me in the same list as Stephen King and Danielle Steele and John Grisham."

"They were listing who's been on the list the longest and with which books," Armie said. "And he was in good company. He's just not that kind of mass-market writer, so it's a real honor."

"Nobody goes to the airport and gets my book, is all," Chris said. "It was unexpected."

"I think it's wonderful," Dru said. "With all the accolades you three are bringing in, it's hard not to be proud of you."

"The scouts were watching my games again," Euan said. "The other guys play harder when they're there."

"They're there to see you," Dru said. Chris looked over at Armie, who was smiling. Seeing that pride made Chris smile, too. Sprits were high all around. Things between Chris and Dru weren't always great, but right now things were better than fine.

"Have you read dad's new book?" Euan asked.

"Your grandma's really busy," Chris said a little too quickly. "I mean, it's not ... I don't expect you to read them all. Any of them, really."

"I read them all," Dru said. "And they're all brilliant." She turned to Euan, "Your dad is an exceptional talent, just like you. Just like your daddy."

"Do you want to see a picture of the turtle?" Euan asked. "He's big now."

"He's huge," Armie said. "I don't know how much longer he'll be able to get in that dog igloo." He handed Euan his phone so he could show off his pet.

Years of Friday dinners primed Armie for passive-aggressive comments and off-hand remarks from his mom, but now that Euan was older and Chris had accepted that Dru was her own kind of mom, everything got easier. The tension that could sometimes fill the entire dining room was gone. Chris didn't need to be on his best behavior anymore and Dru knew that nothing she said could ever change her son's mind, so she stopped trying to convince him of anything.

"Euan's idea to have a children's exhibit at the museum went over really well with the board," Dru said. "We're going to have a room that's just for kids art and we're going to dedicate it as the Euan L. Hammer Gallery."

"That's amazing," Chris said. "What about my idea of making him a trustee?"

"There's going to be interactive stations and digital art and it's going to be a place that's interesting for kids and adults," Dru explained. "When you say the museum is dull sometimes, I really thought about that. We want everyone to have a good time."

"That's really cool," Armie said. "He's 10 and already more involved in the museum than I am."

Chris chuckled. "That makes for both of us. Sorry we've been neglecting all of that. Life just gets hectic."

"Maybe the family gallery will give you more reason to get involved," Dru said.

"Euan, even your dad and me don't have our own galleries," Armie said. "I think grandma's playing favorites."

"Do I get to choose what goes in the museum?" Euan asked.

"Maybe one day," Dru said. "For now it's just a place for kids to make art and the things that they don't want to take with them can stay and go on the gallery walls."

"That's cool," Euan said. "Can I bring the team?"

"Of course," Dru said.

"Already thinking about brand partnerships," Armie said, letting out a soft laugh.

***

"That is a red card!" Chris yelled out. He was just a few feet away from the sideline referee. He may have had fury raging through his veins, but he knew that he couldn't encroach. It would have been worse for the team if he got ejected. "He's out there holding his head. That's a high boot and it was an obvious goal-scoring opportunity. I know the rules."

"Mr. Hammer, please step back," the ref said. The defender that had committed the foul had tracked back to the other sideline, hoping to get out of earshot.

"That's a dangerous play," Chris said, his voice rising. The other parents were staring and Euan was still on the ground, clutching the back of his head and kicking at the grass with his heels. The medic was looking at him and while that did give Chris some sort of reassurance, he wanted to know his son didn't have a concussion. Chris could feel his blood boiling, anger overriding fear and concern.

"Chris," Armie said, pulling him back. "Let everyone do what they need to do. They're professionals."

Chris shrugged Armie's hand off his shoulder and before he could get another word out, Armie had spun him around. "Let everyone do their jobs?" Chris asked. "That's our son."

"He's going to be fine," Armie said, hoping he was right. A few seconds later -- it felt like an eternity -- Euan was sitting up. Duke had rushed across the field and helped him up to his feet. Euan gave a thumbs up to his coach and the medical staff nodded in agreement.

"That's bullshit," Chris said to Armie. "He needs to get off the field. Now."

"You know he'd never do that," Armie said. "He'd play with one leg if it meant winning. Trust him."

"What happened?" Chris asked when the medical staff got to the sidelines.

"Just a hard knock. He didn't black out. Everything is fine."

Chris shook his head. That wasn't enough. "What did you guys even check?"

"Chris," Armie said. "C'mon. Come here."

"I'll be at the car," Chris said, tossing his hands up. "I'll be back when the game is over."

"Chris," Armie said. "That's not what Euan would want. You watch every game. This is part of it. Don't let him down."

Chris took a breath. He could feel the heat in his ears. "What is Remy doing here?" he asked, spotting him from across the field. There was a steady clap coming from the stands, which was how the supporters and opponents alike showed solidarity for a player when he was hurt. It wasn't the first time Euan had been knocked down, but it was the first time it happened so close to where Chris was standing. It was never so blatant, either. Every team knew that Euan was a threat. Not every team went after him physically.

"God," Chris said under his breath. "This is complete fucking garbage. He's a kid."

Armie gripped Chris' shoulders, turning him to face the game again. "Breathe," he whispered in his ear. "He's running around like nothing happened. He didn't throw up. He's going to be fine."

"Make sure he's not complaining about a headache or dizziness," the medic said. Wisely, he'd waited until Chris had calmed down just a little bit before continuing with his speech. "If he has trouble focusing or is forgetting things. Just watch out for anything out of the ordinary."

"Thank you very, very much," Armie said.

"Get him to the doctor as soon as possible if you notice that he's a little off."

"We'll watch him," Armie said. He could feel the tension in Chris' shoulders fade, even if it was just slightly.

For the both of them, the rest of the game was a blur. Chris and Armie spent second watching Euan's every move. Was he stumbling or was he just tired? Were his eyes focusing on the ball or on nothing in particular? The 15 minutes felt like an eternity.

"I feel normal," Euan said as soon as he ran up to his dads. The celebration could wait. He knew his dads were freaking out. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Chris said, finally feeling a little bit of relief. "You know your body. You sure you're not a little off?"

"We won," Euan said. "I feel amazing. It's the best."

"Is your head ... normal?" Armie asked.

"Daddy, I'm fine," Euan insisted. "I'll be right back." He trotted over to the rest of his team, his arms outstretched in victory.

"I'm going to have a stroke," Chris said, resting his forehead on Armie's chest. "How do the other parents do it?"

"We freak out, just like you," James said. He'd come up to them as soon as the game ended, knowing full well what they were going for. As a goalie, Duke was diving all the time and guys were colliding into him pretty often during corner kicks. "It's part of the game. Everyone jokes that soccer's not a contact sport, but you saw what happened. Bad call though, it should have been a penalty."

"We're not supposed to criticize the refs," Armie said. "But you're right."

"I'm going to need a Xanax," Chris said. "The relapse would be worth it."

"Don't joke about that," Armie said, holding Chris' hand. "Please."

"Yeah, yeah," Chris said, rolling his eyes. "I'll be over at the orange slices."

***

Armie's brow furrowed and he let out a long breath. He'd rearranged the awards on Chris' shelf so many times, but everything looked jumbled and crowded. He gave up and set his Oscar down on the floor. They'd need another shelf or something. Maybe he'd just take them all to Santa Barbara next time they headed up. After finally getting one, Armie noticed that everything felt anticlimactic and abrupt. He'd imagined that it would be a sort of magic talisman that brought him better roles, but all it got him was a new title. Academy Award-winning actor Armie Hammer. He noticed that on Chris' books, there wasn't a single mention of a film award. He had an Oscar, but in Chris' world, it wasn't anything anyone talked about. He picked up his trophy and set it on Chris' desk. It didn't belong yet, but it didn't deserve to be on the floor.

He made his way back to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. Chris was scrolling on his phone, his hair still wet from his shower and he was still completely naked, his towel slung over one shoulder, though Armie could tell it was about to slip off if he moved even an inch. It was a sight to see and even though Armie was familiar with every curve and contour, seeing it one more time in the afternoon light was still enough to make Armie stop mid-stride.

"Is there a reason you're standing there like that?" Armie asked.

Chris looked up and blushed, everything from his cheeks down to his stomach turning rosy. He tossed his phone onto the bed and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"I've seen you naked, Chris."

"I couldn’t decide what to wear."

Armie let out a soft laugh. "Couldn't figure out which black jeans and which white T-shirt to put on?"

"I could wear blue jeans," Chris said. "No. I was checking the schedule."

Armie closed the space between them and brought their lips together, feeling Chris' sides and chest, his fingertips barely touching the skin as they kissed. He pushed the towel off Chris' hips. "You can stay naked."

"I can't though," Chris said, kissing Armie again. "I need to get ready." His breath hitched as Armie stroked his dick, his fingers dipping lower to press right behind Chris' balls. "The kid could walk in on us," Chris said, his voice shaky.

"Tonight. I'm going to rim you until you cum," Armie said as his thumb ran over Chris' slit. "And I'll fuck you just how you like," his lips were brushing Chris' ear and jaw, "Slow and deep until you're a mess under me."

Chris shuddered under Armie's masterful touch and he had to take a step back, his hard dick already dripping pearls of pre-cum. "Black jeans," he said, still shuddering. "I need to get my black ... um, pants."

"Your publishing people don't care what you wear," Armie said, smiling. "Don't worry about it."

Chris ducked into the walk-in, slipping a pair of black briefs on before he noticed Armie standing at the door. "I still make you nervous?"

"I mean ... yeah. You're Armie Hammer," Chris said. "Look at you."

"Look at yourself once in a while," Armie said. "You're the sexiest man I've ever seen."

Chris scrambled to put on socks and his black jeans, reaching for his go-to black cashmere sweater. "You've seen me in more compromising positions," Chris said, still making an effort to get his heart to slow down. "But it's different when you're dressed and I'm ... not."

"You never stop surprising me," Armie said, feeling Chris' shoulders through the soft knit.

"Are you going to get ready?" Chris asked. "I'm going to tell Sebs everything."

"Give me 15 minutes," Armie said.

Chris gave him a quick kiss and headed downstairs, grabbing his black boots along the way. Sebastian and Euan were in the kitchen, watching videos on Sebastian's phone and smiling. Chris figured it was from the game last weekend, when Euan had scored the winning goal. Chris explained where that there was food in the fridge that just needed to be warmed up. There were beers for Sebastian, like always, and bedtime wasn't negotiable. It was a school night and even though Sebastian was cool and easygoing, there were no exceptions.

"I don't know what time we'll be back," Chris said. "But I hope it's not late. I can set up the pull-out bed for you if you want."

"I'll wait up," Sebastian said. "I don't have a bedtime."

"Lucky," Euan said. He turned his attention away from Sebastian's phone and got back to his homework. Chris gave it a once-over. Pre-algebra. His kid was definitely growing up too fast.

"You'll get there," Sebastian said. "But you know that professional athletes sleep a lot, right? I think they go to bed even earlier than you do sometimes."

Euan let out a little huff and Armie made his way into the fold, running his fingers through Euan's hair. "How about 15 minutes if you get all your math homework done before dinner?"

"Deal," Euan said, suddenly laser-focused on his worksheets.

Chris looked over at Armie and shook his head. What could 15 minutes really do, especially when bedtime was at 8 p.m.? If it made Euan happy, Armie thought, it couldn't really hurt.

"This shouldn't get too wild," Armie said. "Thanks for ... " he stopped before the word "babysitting," since Euan hated being called a baby. "Keeping an eye on him."

"Love you, kiddo," Chris said, kissing the top of Euan's head. "Be good."

Armie surveyed the crowd, Chris' hand still lingering in his as he checked in. They'd managed to show up on time, even with L.A. traffic. With their names checked off the list, Chris looked over at Armie and raised an eyebrow. "Ready?" he asked.

Chris' world was still foreign to Armie. For as long as they'd been together, he still felt out of place when he was around writers and publishers. The events were so far and few between that Armie never got to know anyone, so it was like meeting a brand-new set of people every single time, even though Armie knew he'd met some of these authors before. Thankfully, everyone knew who he was.

Armie stood up straight and kept his hand on Chris' lower back as they made their way into the crowd. If he was going to be plus-one tonight, he wanted to look as good as he could.

"Do you want to get something to drink?" Chris asked. He was glancing around the room, but he couldn't find anyone he knew well enough to want to talk to.

"Christopher," they both heard over the hum of the crowd. "Someone I know. Finally."

"Hey," Chris said before he was pulled into a hug.

"When are we going to get you workshopping out at the lake?"

Armie raised an eyebrow as he shook the man's hand. When had Chris ever gone to a lake? "Jonathan, you must have him mixed up with someone else."

"I've been trying to get him out to the retreat for a decade."

"It's not how I work," Chris said. "I don't think I could write knowing that I could get attacked by a bear if I forget to toss my garbage into a locked trash can."

"Dark," Jonathan said. He was on the same Penguin imprint as Chris, but they were two very different writers. Chris was known for writing Americana-tinged tragedies and Jonathan was buzzy and hip, writing about characters that went to music festivals and worked at startups. It was a far, far cry from the granular examinations of family dynamics and the shifting of the American dream that Chris seemed to orbit around again and again. Nostalgia was something Chris used for his entire career, only it wasn't his own nostalgia. The fascinating part about his books was that he latched onto some sort of universal American ideal and twisted it just enough to make it a little off-kilter. Prom queens, homecoming quarterbacks, rebels that wanted to get out of Midwest towns, that was Chris' territory. Jonathan's books were about Brooklynites and Seattle natives.

"It's good to see you again," Armie said. "Chris told me you were in Turkey a few weeks ago?"

"I just wanted to get away from this," Jonathan said. "Take some time to see what curiosity looks like from a different perspective."

"And what exactly does curiosity look like?" Chris asked. He wrapped an arm around Armie's waist and leaned against his body, hoping to hear something groundbreaking from Jonathan.

"That's the thing with you," Jonathan said, smiling. "You go in for details, not the big picture. It's the concept of curiosity, not anything concrete."

"We're not all as cerebral as you," Chris said. "I would never even think to write about 'concepts.'"

"It's good that I like you so much," Jonathan said. "Otherwise, I'd think you were making fun of me."

"I would never," Chris said. "We're a dying breed, you and me. Kids don't grow up wanting to write literary fiction. They want to be famous."

"And you're the kid that did both," Jonathan said.

"Tonight's not about me," Chris said, blushing. "Where is Bianca? She's the one that's supposed to be getting some sort of honor tonight."

"And aren't you supposed to give a speech?"

"I'm actually not," Chris clarified. "I'm just here to support."

"I'm going to the bar," Armie said. "Excuse me."

His hand lingered on Chris' back just a second longer and he made his way over to the crowded bar setup. He'd been to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel more times than he could remember, but tonight was different. Everything was much more casual than he was used to. No red carpet and no photographer pit. Instead, people were actually talking to each other, not just posing for pictures.

"I thought I saw you."

"David," Armie said, glad to see someone he really did know. "Man, it's been a long time."

"I wasn't supposed to be here," he said. "But I moved some things around. I thought maybe I'd see Chris. Everything good?"

Armie handed David a beer and they clinked their bottles together as they took a few steps away from the queue of thirsty guests. "Really good," Armie said. "Who is that guy Chris is talking to?"

"Jackson," David said. "Chris sort-of mentored him for a long time and we've been working together a lot. He's an editor, but I think he said something about wanting to be a literary agent. Pivoting."

Armie couldn't remember Chris ever mentioning a Jackson, but he could tell by Chris' body language that there was a familiarity. "He looks young," Armie said.

"He started as a junior editor," David said. "Are you honestly jealous? You're Armie Hammer."

"No, it's not that," Armie said. "It's very strange to see him that comfortable with someone. You know how he can be."

"You got me there," David said.

When Armie made his way back to Chris, seltzer in hand, he was sending a message to Sebastian and jumped slightly at Armie's nudge at his bicep. "All good?"

"All clear," Chris said, taking the water appreciatively. He took a big gulp and leaned up to kiss Armie's cheek. "Thanks."

"Who is Bianca, exactly?"

"She's heading up Gwyneth Paltrow's book club," Chris said. "Gwyneth is supposed to be here, too."

"Gwyneth Paltrow has a book club?" Armie asked.

"She does now," Chris said, linking his arm around Armie's.

Chris wasn't one to work the room the way Armie did. While some of the other invited guests were using the night as a networking event or to greet old acquaintances, Chris was happy to just take it easy. There wasn't much to the party, even when Gwyneth Paltrow was introduced to a roar of applause. "This isn't really your scene," Armie said, leaning in close to Chris' ear. "Gwyneth Paltrow's book club isn't where you want to be."

"Jackson and David wanted me to be here. They think I'm getting too Hollywood," Chris said.

"They've got jobs because of how Hollywood you are," Armie said, his fingertips coming up under Chris' sweater, barely touching his lower back.

"I don't really fit in here," Chris said. "And I don't really fit in Hollywood, either. I'm in a weird limbo between NPR and PBS and production companies and awards shows."

"You're right where you need to be," Armie said. "Let's get you home."

"I think this is almost over," Chris said before resting his head against Armie's shoulder.

"Which is exactly why we should get out of here," Armie said.

"You can't leave without saying goodbye," Chris and Armie heard.

"It's how we usually do things," Chris said. "Bianca, have you met my husband?"

Armie offered his hand. "Not officially," he said. "Good luck with this new gig."

"It's really nothing," Bianca said. "But not all of us have enough ideas to make a living as a writer."

"You have good ideas," Chris said, reaching for Armie's hand. "But I know it's hard. Burnout. Writer's block. It's part of what we do."

"Having a kid really made you soft," Bianca said.

"No, it makes you work even harder," Chris said. "Because you've got to provide for someone who can't take care of themselves."

"It's not like that exactly," Armie said. "We're not struggling to feed him or anything."

"Struggle is different for everyone," Bianca noted. "For me, it was realizing that being a writer wasn't paying the bills and I had to pivot into being influential and curatorial."

"And it worked," Chris said. "You're amazing."

"And you still have the opportunity to tell stories," Armie said.

"I just want to know your secret," Bianca said to Chris. "Never running out of ideas. You've got something that I can't get."

Chris shook his head. "You know it's never that easy. I've got a very good team of people helping me."

There was a secret, Chris thought. As Euan got older, the fact that his biological mother had passed away kept creeping bac into Chris' mind. He didn't know if Armie ever thought about it or if he just lived in a state of ignorant bliss, but the secret was there. So, yes, there was a secret that Chris would use now and then, a dark secret that managed to spawn a few bigger ideas every now and then. He'd used bits and pieces of it for one book, touched on it briefly in a story or two. It never felt great. In fact, it felt awful to use something like that as a jump-off for his work.

"We've got to get going," Armie insisted, feeling Chris' grip tense up. "I'll read anything you and Gwyneth recommend. Have a great night," Armie said, offering Bianca a quick wave. He gave Chris' hand the slightest tug to jolt him out of his daze.

"Great party," Chris said, a weak smile tugging at his mouth.

"You good?" Armie asked when they were at the valet station. If he had to ask, he knew something was wrong. He just needed Chris to start talking.

"I'm getting there," Chris said. "These things have a way of making you reevaluate your choices."

"And what choices are you hoping to undo?"

"Nothing I can control, I guess," Chris said. He leaned up and kissed Armie, not caring that everyone around them could see.

\---

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